


We Are One

by Rheaird_of_Life



Category: Sense8 (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/F, M/M, Some sexy times, The Ark, anya disapproves most strongly, clarke kicking ass, cry baby clarke, lexa kicking ass, lots of death, lots of screaming, pretty angsty, sappy sentimental lexa, somewhat humourous too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 87,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheaird_of_Life/pseuds/Rheaird_of_Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sense8 Clexa fic. What if one moment of connection changed everything? A kind of re-imagining of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't have to watch Sense8 first to get this, though it would probably help.
> 
> All of the initial and video dialogue is taken directly from the show.

Due to a patients unexpected demise during a routine surgery, her mother excused her from the medical bay early. She came home to find her dad making a video, a video that would get himself killed, and she was in no mood for more death.

"In this time of uncertainty, we will come together, as a people. I'm telling you this because you must know the truth. And because I want a future for my child. And yours. Be strong."

The words were equal parts inspiring and frightening to her. Not able to hold her tongue any longer, she dropped her bag down and said, "You're going to disobey the council?" He ended the video at her first utterance, and then turned in his swivel chair to face her, clearly not happy, but keeping a calm and stoic demeanour. Apparently lost in thought, she prompted him further. "Dad, I know. I heard you and Mom."

"Okay you know," he said with a resigned sigh, not quite meeting her eye. "I've been thinking about this a long time. The people have a right to know. Your mother doesn't understand-"

"What's the plan?" she interrupted with a slight huff of impatience.

He scoffed lightly, like she was being a stupid child, and tried to brush her off. "You don't need to know the plan."

She avoided rolling her eyes and charged on in a no nonsense manner. "Well, you're making a video, so you're gonna what...break into the communications mainframe?" He just stared at her, apparently incapable of speech. This all but confirmed she was right, and she felt like smacking some sense into him. "Making you either suicidal or incredibly dumb."

"You are picking a fine moment to start behaving like a typical teenager," he said, trying to steer the conversation away from himself and his own foolish actions.

"I'm gonna help you," she declared. _So you don't get yourself killed._

"No, Clarke, no, you're not," he said aghast, getting out of his chair.

"But I can!" she exclaimed obstinately. _You need me!_

"Absolutely not!" he said, coming to a stop right in front of her. His expression softened as he took her into his arms, cradling the back of her head. She tried to resist the urge to rest her head against his chest, but as always, was incapable of doing so. "Oh baby," he whispered in her ear, as he swayed them together gently. He pulled back to look down at her with a mixture of pride and annoyance. "You get that stubborn streak from your mother, you know." He braced her shoulders and smiled slightly, "One of the many things I love about both of you."

She was about to respond when their front door swung open and guards swarmed in without ceremony, grabbing a hold of his arm, tearing him away from her. "Jake Griffin you're under arrest for treason."

Her worst nightmare was quickly becoming a reality and she just about lost her shit.

"Dad? Dad, no! No! No!" she cried as two guards held her back.

"Get your hands off of her!" he snapped.

"Let me go!" she grunted, slipping out of their grasps to wrap her arms around his neck one last time. "I'll warn them, I'll find a way," she told him desperately, as they dragged her back and under control.

"No, Clarke," he intoned a bit frantically. "No, listen to me. Do not do that!"

"Get off me, let me go!" she yelled, fighting for all worth. It was no use. She was too weak. Her father was swept out of sight and she feared she would never see him again. And in that moment she was certain she would never be truly happy either. "Let me go! Dad! Dad!"

Lexa was in the middle of dinner when a crippling pain overtook her heart, the intensity rivalling that of the moment she first learned of Costia's disappearance. Out of nowhere a frantic golden haired girl appeared before her. She stared at the screaming woman in complete shock and confusion. It was as if time slowed down as their eyes locked, and the most intense connection she had ever felt flooded through her, as if she had known this inexplicable apparition her whole life. The myriad of emotions surging in her was incredibly intoxicating, incredibly frightening, she who prided herself on pretending not to have such weakness. It didn't feel like weakness in that never ending moment.

The next thing she knew, she was in a foreign metal land, not a tree in sight, odd, stale smell to the air, and strange white lights aglow, watching as the vision struggled against two captors. She beheld this ferocious girl, this captivating creature in wonderment. Lexa didn't know if any of this was even real, or if she had unknowingly ingested some potent Jobi nuts, but it didn't matter. The moment their eyes met again, the desire to help her was beyond overwhelming, and just like that she seemed to inhabit the girls body, the grip of the men tight on her arms, infuriating her.

Lexa wrenched her right arm free from the first man, jabbing the second guard in the throat with the ends of her finger tips. While he coughed obscenely, releasing her other arm, she whipped her right arm back towards the first man who was about to regrab her, hitting him square across the chest with the length of it. He staggered back a bit and while he was off guard, she spun on the spot and landed a powerful kick to the face, knocking him over and towards the bedrooms. She easily sidestepped the sputtering first guard who lunged at her, thumping him hard in the back, pushing him into the sofa where he tumbled over and crashed into the coffee table, moving no more.

Then she dashed into the unfamiliar - yet at the same time completely familiar - corridor, charging after the other three men who had grabbed her father - the girls father. Her heavy boots clanked against the metal walkway loudly and the third one who was pushing Jake along, whirled around in surprise, just in time for her to jump at him and punch him in the nose with a savage blow. He went down like a sack of potatoes and the last two bewildered guards released Jake to deal with her. Jake stared at her wide eyed as she expertly evaded their grasps and punched and kicked them interchangeably until they too fell. The bloodlust was strong and she was about to snap the closest ones neck when she was pulled out of the instinct by the girls father.

"Clarke?" he choked out, leaning against the wall for support. "Kiddo, whe - where did that come from?"

She just stood there, panting hard, this body unused to this kind of physical exertion. Clarke's need was fading fast, a euphoria taking hold, but they separated long enough to share one last look of understanding, and then Lexa blinked to awareness, to the destroyed dining room of her house in Polis; plates, vases, chairs - all overturned and broken. As well as this, she found herself standing on top of the table, pants splattered in food. Servants stood off to the side gaping at her.

Sybil stepped forward and timidly said, "Was the rabbit stew not to your liking, commander?"

Clarke had no idea what had just happened, but she was unspeakably grateful to the fearsome and beautiful warrior who helped save her father.

"We need to...play it...right now," she panted.

Her dad got a hold of himself and frowned down at her. "I already told you, Clarke, I'm not letting you be a part of this."

"Look around, Dad!" she shouted, gesturing to the unconscious guards. "I'm...in it!" Without waiting for him to respond, she sprinted back to their quarters and snatched up the recording. Upon her return, she grabbed hold of his hand with her own bruised and bleeding one, and tried to pull him along, but he resisted her. She scowled at him and sprinted away - "Clarke! Clarke come back here!" - weaving through the corridors, past many a curious onlooker until she arrived at the communications mainframe. As predicted, her father had come after her.

By now she could barely breathe, and her lungs were on fire, but she ignored this unpleasantness and just flailed at the bullet proof doors blocking their entrance. "Well? Break in!"

Her somewhat winded dad shook his head a couple of times to which she said, "What do you have to lose?!" Finally he sighed, cracked open the number pad and began fiddling with the wires in there. Clarke tried to catch her breath as she intermittently watched him work and kept a look out for any approaching trouble.

"Hurry up, Dad!" she said anxiously.

A few moments later the doors parted and they darted inside, the three technicians on duty staring at them in perplexity.

"Jake?" said Sinclair. "What are you doing?"

"I don't have time to explain. Clarke, go wait outside."

Clarke stepped forward, holding out the damning flashdrive. "We need you to play this through the network."

Sinclair shared a look with the other technicians. "I'm not authorized to-"

"Please, Simon, this is important. All of our lives are at stake."

One of the technician's pressed a button on the console and Clarke just knew they had activated the silent alarm. She strode over to the woman and decked her without a second thought, wincing as another fresh cut sliced through her throbbing knuckles.

"Lock those doors!" she ordered to the other guy. He scrambled to do as she said while her dad pushed past Sinclair and began accessing the mainframe.

"Jake, stop and think about what you are doing. This will get you floated. You can't just-"

"The drive, Clarke!" he called from across the room. She tossed it to him and he caught it easily enough. Without a moment's hesitation, he loaded up the video and hit play. The large monitors beside them filled with her father's kind face and echoed with his words of impending doom and optimism.

" _People of the Ark, my name is Jake Griffin. I'm Senior Environmental Engineer, Deputy Resource Officer_."

Clarke went to hold his hand in solidarity, letting the message wash over her.

" _Today I need to talk to you about our future. The things I need to tell you are serious. The Ark is dying. This city in space, that has been our sanctuary for generations, is dying. Time is running out._ "

At this point there were angry yells from the other side of the doors and Clarke watched in horror as a crowbar was wedged between them, beginning to pry them open. Her dad squeezed her hand, pulling her against his chest. She held on tightly, burrowing her face, knowing full well it might be her last chance.

" _This is an undeniable reality. But we have pledged our lives to make sure that humanity does not share that fate."_

The guards broke in with guns raised, yelling at them to step away from the console. They did so together.

" _Now, while there's still time, we must come together and face this crisis head on. I believe it will bring out the best in us..._ "

Commander Shumway yanked the flashdrive out, dropped it on the ground and crushed it with his heel, all the while glaring at them with his dead, soulless eyes. He had always given her the creeps. In a fit of childish rebellion she just about stuck her tongue out at him.

Marcus Kane marched up to her dad and waspishly said, "You've just doomed us all." He shook his head in disgust. "Take them away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is hilarious to me, envisioning Clarke doing these martial arts moves. Anyone else?


	2. Chapter 2

They awaited judgement in front of the Chancellor, Abby and Marcus in the council chambers. Clarke had yet to let go of her father, savouring every touch they had left to them. Jaha was chastising them for their foolish conduct. Her mother looked close to tears, and Clarke felt the tiniest twinge of regret. But she refused to apologize for doing what she knew in her heart was right, staring them all down defiantly.

"This will cause an Ark wide panic," Jaha intoned soberly, his hands behind his back. "There will be riots. Chaos. It will be bloody. Many people will die as a consequence of your rash actions."

"I did what I had to do," said Jake calmly enough, though she could feel his heart racing, "what I thought was right."

"So did I," she piped up. "I'm just as much to blame as my dad. You have to punish us equally. I don't care if I'm a minor. You have to float me too."

"No, Clarke," her mother said, eyes shining, "don't say things like that."

"Your mother's right, Clarke," said Jake, looking down at her, smiling slightly, lips tight in worry. "You're going to live a nice long life," he glanced over at Jaha, "isn't that, right, Thelonious, my old friend?"

Jaha stared at them impassively, allowing Marcus to speak his mind.

"No one is above the law, not even the Chancellor himself. You will both severely pay for that little stunt you pulled." Still staring at Jake, "You injured five of my men, broke into the communications mainframe, assaulted a technician, played forbidden material...each and every one of these crimes is punishable by death. And I for one will see-"

"That's enough, Marcus," said Jaha sternly. "Everyone here is aware of their crimes." An expectant quiet stilled the room and her breathing. Jaha sighed, rubbing his forehead. "He's right of course, Jake. I can't let this stand unpunished. You must answer for your crimes." He looked to her. "You both must."

"She's just a child," said Abby suddenly. "Leave her out of this."

"I can't do that, Abby." He sighed again. "Clarke Griffin, for the crime of co-conspirator, you will be detained in Sky Box until you reach the age of majority. At such time we will reconsider your case." Her father held her tighter as he shared a pained look with her mother and then his supposed best friend. "Jake Griffin, for disobeying the council's direct orders and for the previously mentioned crimes...your sentence is death. You will be floated in one hours time. I suggest you use that time to say goodbye to your loved ones."

If she hadn't been so devastated by this pronouncement she might have wondered how a man who had played silly games with her as a child, who used to eat and talk and laugh with her family like he was one of them, who she believed loved them, could betray them in such an infamous manner. Screw duty and honour. There were some bonds that were supposed to be stronger than that. Later she would swear that she would never choose her head over her heart. She would never betray someone she loved. She thought herself incapable of such cruelty. In her mind, there was always another way.

Before leaving, the traitor placed a hand on her dad's shoulder and she wanted to rage against him, but she didn't. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"Me too," said Jake, body sagging.

Marcus left too and then the Griffin's collided in one big hug, their grief terrible to behold.

* * *

When her parents were holding hands while they quietly conversed at the circular table, the council chamber doors opened and Wells appeared. She had been agitatedly pacing, trying to figure a way out of this mess, trying to invoke the spirit of the warrior princess again. She stopped in her tracks and they shared a devastated look. He rushed over and embraced her.

"I saw the video. I knew they'd be holding you here. My dad only just let me in." He pulled back to look at her, face stricken. "It's almost time, Clarke."

She panicked some more, gripping his forearms for support. "No, no, no. There must be a way to stop this from happening!"

"It'll be okay, baby," her father said, now behind her, hands on her shoulders. "Everything's going to be okay."

"How can you say that?!" she threw back at him, whirling into his waiting arms. "They're about to kill you!" The tears were flowing strongly, but she wasn't ashamed. "I won't let them! I won't let them!"

The doors parted again and Kane and Shumway marched in. "Let's go, Jake."

Shumway moved to take him and Clarke got in his way, shoving him off. "You're not taking him anywhere! I won't allow it!"

"Clarke," said her father.

The commander looked amused, or as amused as a cold blooded killer could look. Only someone without a soul could float that many people and have no remorse. He was sub human, and if anyone deserved to die, it was him, not her dad.

"Step aside, girl, before you get yourself hurt."

"No," she growled, standing her ground.

" _Clarke_ ," said her mother.

_Come on, Xena, help a girl out!_

And just like that, the warrior princess appeared before her. As their eyes connected, she instinctively knew her name was Lexa. "Please." The breathtakingly beautiful woman dipped her head slightly and then disappeared, becoming a part of her, calming her mind, guiding her movements.

The executioner made another play for her dad and she grabbed his hand, wrenching it backwards as savagely as she possibly could. He yelled in surprise and pain and tried to punch her. Without letting go, she dodged this, kicking his legs out from under him, grounding her heel into his back while she wrenched his arm to the point of dislocation. Then Kane pulled out his baton, electrified it and tried to zap her, but she released Shumway and dodged this too, grabbing Kane's outstretched arm and flinging him forward. Shumway was attempting to right himself, so she picked up the scattered baton and shocked him and then Kane for good measure. They both slumped back down to the cold metal floor. Everyone still standing was staring at her in amazement.

"Well, don't just stand there," she said, as she felt Lexa disconnect, "let's go!"

"Clarke, I don't know how you just did that," said her mother, wide eyed, "but there's nowhere _to_ go. There's nowhere to run to."

"You're wrong," said Wells, an inner fire burning bright in his eyes. She had never seen him like that before and it was kind of a turn on to see him taking charge. He turned to her father. "The people heard your message loud and clear, Mr. Griffin, and they respect you for it. I saw it in their eyes. They'll take you in, protect you from my father."

"No, absolutely, not," he said, with a slicing motion. "No one else will die because of me. This is my burden and mine alone."

"Dad, _please_!" she begged, tugging on his arm, desperate to get him to safety.

He cupped her tear stained cheek and smiled sadly down at her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but the answers no."

Kane and Shumway were stirring and she just about shocked them again. The council doors opened, more guards pouring in, these ones armed with guns and dangerous. Jaha was at the forefront. He quickly observed the scene and then levelled his gaze at Clarke. "Drop the weapon, Clarke. You can't win."

"Wanna bet?" she challenged.

"Oh no you don't," her father said, grabbing her from behind, lifting her off her feet, "not again."

The futility of the situation finally registered and she dropped the baton to the floor, a dullness seeping in, dampening her senses. She barely noticed when her dad put her down and followed the guards out. Wells stayed back with her, trying to rouse her by shaking her shoulders, and calling her name. Except it wasn't Wells voice that succeeded in bringing her back to reality, but a soft, pleasant female voice she had never heard before, but that seemed to resonate in her own mind with all the force of her own conscience.

All at once she freaked out over her dad's disappearance and went charging towards the air lock used for floating, Wells hot on her heels. As they approached, they were met with an unusual sight. Many of the working class had formed a barrier with their bodies, preventing the guards passage with Jake, preventing his execution. The mere sight of this unity warmed her to the core.

"For the final time, stand aside," ordered Jaha.

"I don't think so," said a solidly built orange haired man. He had a hammer in hand. "You're trying to kill the only honest man left on this stinking ship."

"Yeah," said a young dark haired woman, large grey wrench resting on her shoulder, " _and_ the only one who has a snowball's chance in hell of saving us. How stupid can you get?"

"I think we need a change of leadership around these parts," said the man. "Someone to tell us what's what and not hide behind his desk like a coward when the going gets tough."

Murmurs of agreement amongst the crowd, the crowd armed with various blunt instruments for striking down any guard that got too close.

"Please, no violence," said Jake. "That's not what I wanted for us."

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Griffin," said the disgruntled man, "but I think that's _precisely_ what we need. It's the only thing these people respond to."

The guards were ready to fire into the crowd if needs be. Kane prompted The Chancellor to give the order. Jaha just stood there, looking at the ground, lost in thought. Then he stepped forward and turned so that he was facing both sides.

"They're right. We need a change. We need to work together in unity to save ourselves. And if the only way to do that is with my resignation, then so be it." A hushed surprise filled the crowded space. Jaha looked to Kane. "I'm afraid you'll have to forfeit your ascension as well."

"Surely you can't be serious, sir," choked Kane in disbelief. "You can't just ask me to step down because of this degenerate mob."

"I'm not asking," said Jaha. "I'm telling. None of these people will accept you as the new Chancellor."

"You can't know-"

"No, he's right," said the sassy, hard edged woman with the wrench. "No one likes you Kane. You're an even bigger ass than this one," she said, pointing to Jaha. A bunch of people in the would be mob laughed. Clarke was doing her best to hold back a smirk, if only for Wells sake. "We need someone we can trust to always have our backs...who won't sentence us to death for petty crimes. I move for the immediate swearing in of Jake Griffin."

"Hear, hear!" came the call, workers pumping their weapons in the air.

"But he's not even a council member!" exploded Kane. "He _can't_ become the next Chancellor!"

Jaha turned to her father and said, "As my last act as Chancellor, I hereby pardon Jake Griffin of all charges laid against him, and induct him into the council with the fervent hope that he is indeed the saviour we so desperately need."

"This is lunacy!" whisper yelled Kane over the next round of hear, hears. "This is anarchy! Without proper order we are all doomed! And I refuse to submit to your unreasonable demands!" He whirled around to face the guards and said, "Arrest Thelonious Jaha for abuse of power!" They just stared at him as he continued to unravel. "I order you as your new Chancellor! Obey me!" No one moved a muscle and then he stormed out of there with Shumway, past a spellbound Clarke and Wells.

Jaha then ordered the guards to depart, and once they were gone, she ran over to her flabbergasted father and threw herself into his arms, absolute relief and euphoria flooding through every fibre of her being. Clarke was unable to control her rampant emotions and simply bawled into the crook of his neck in front of everyone still present.

When she next opened her eyes, she found herself in someone's old fashioned living room, with bookshelves and a crackling fire to boot. Lexa looked up from the large piece of parchment she was perusing and broke out into a huge smile.

"You saved your father. I'm glad."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Clarke exclaimed, jumping at the woman, in her excitement forgetting she wasn't really there. Instead of passing through however, she collided with very real flesh and bone, eliciting a nearly unheard 'ooph'.

"You're real?!" she exulted, placing her hands on either side of her face. "I can feel you!"

"You thought I was a ghost, Clarke?" said Lexa, laughing. Clarke thought it the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

"How is this possible?!"

This up close and personal, she marvelled at the intensity and keenness of her green eyes, of the regal elegance of her features, of how breathtakingly beautiful she was when she smiled like that.

"I don't know," she said after a lengthy pause, placing a hand over top Clarke's, eyes never leaving hers. "But my people believe that we never truly die, and that every living thing is connected to one another...perhaps our connection has simply taken a more tangible form?"

The lovely scent of Lexa invaded her scattered senses, further muddying her ecstatic mind, and without thinking what she was doing leaned in for a kiss...

Before their lips met, she snapped back to The Ark, to the dark haired girl pushing her off of her. The girl was looking at her incredulously, like she had just been spouting nonsense.

"Happy to help, Clarke, but I don't swing that way!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward...
> 
> Yay! Finally her dad gets to live! (For now)


	3. Chapter 3

They celebrated privately as a family that night, Clarke imbibing (what her parents thought was) her first alcoholic beverage, extending the life of the warm, euphoric feeling that almost had her kissing a newly minted zero g mechanic named Raven Reyes.

It would be some time before she felt like that again.

In a fit of revenge, Marcus Kane brought up charges of assault and unnecessary force against her. The council and especially her father and mother couldn't ignore the accusation since they had been there. And if Jake wanted to avoid a civil war further down the road, he had to acquiesce to the jilted man's demand of locking his own daughter up in Sky Box.

"I'm so so sorry, baby," he told her outside of the cell she would be residing in for the next months time. Clarke just nodded, pretending to be indifferent to the situation, but inwardly freaking. Then she hugged both of her mournful looking parents and the heavy door swung shut behind her. Immediately all the noise from the other delinquents was phased out, so that all she could hear was the ever present hum of the ventilation system, and her own ragged breathing. Very few people enjoyed being in isolation, and she was no exception. Granted she didn't have too many friends, owing to the fact that the privileged few were more or less segregated from the working class, but this was a completely different sensation. With no one to talk to and nothing to do, she was sure she would go mad within the week. She supposed she should be thankful her sentence wasn't nearly as long as the original one, but it was hard to feel that way when she was finding it hard to breathe.

Before she began to hyperventilate, a flash of light caught her eye, and she looked up and over to find a recessed window to space, and the always breathtaking, mesmerizing sight of the ever present, unattainable, Earth. Not every cell on The Ark had this kind of view (though many did, hence the detention centres name). Clarke knew her parents must have made sure she received this small mercy, this small connection to the outside world. Being the Chancellor's daughter had its benefits, and so she couldn't really blame the whispers of 'princess' from the less fortunate, though it did serve to irritate on occasion.

After calming down, she surveyed her dismal living quarters for the next month. There was a bed, a change of ratty clothes, a sink, and a toilet. That was it. Somewhat depressed, she slumped against the cool, uneven metal behind her, and let The Ark's hum vibrate through her, as if its life force could revive hers.

Eventually she realized something important, and felt so stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

"Lexa," she muttered to herself, willing the woman to appear. She felt close to tears when nothing happened. "Lexa? Lexa?! LEXA?!"

" _Yes, Clarke_?" came the slightly irritated voice inside her head.

"Can we talk for a bit?" she said once she quieted her breathing.

There was a pause. " _I'm afraid I'm somewhat preoccupied at the moment_."

She wasn't sure if it was her own current state of mind or if she was feeling the unease from Lexa's end. In any case, she perked right out of her stupor, getting to her feet as if she could actually help out a warrior like Lexa.

"Nothing serious, I hope."

Another hesitation had her heart racing. " _There is nothing to worry yourself over, Clarke_."

"Are you su-"

And just like that the connection was broken, leaving a fearful emptiness in its wake. Freaking out, she began pacing the room, hands in messy hair, trying to will herself to wherever Lexa was. All of her attempts failed and she slumped down to the floor again and cried like a part of her had just died, as surely as she would have had her father been floated.

* * *

Days later, while she once more tried to get some rest, Lexa appeared. She was cast in partial shadow by the nightlights lining the bottom of the walls, adding an additional layer of mystery and allure. Clarke had been in that hazy place between waking and dreaming, and wasn't positive the woman was actually there.

"You aren't dreaming," said Lexa, scrutinizing her. Clarke rubbed the lethargy away. "Forgive me for disturbing your slumber. It is day here. Allow me to come back la-"

"No!" she exclaimed, jolting upright. Slightly embarrassed by her outburst, she continued on with, "I was just about to get up anyway."

Even if the woman couldn't sporadically see into her thoughts, she was sure to know Clarke was lying. Lexa said nothing to the contrary, only stared. Due to the relative darkness, the stare was more felt than seen.

"What happened to you?" she asked, as she propped herself against the wall. Clarke fiddled with the edge of her heavily mended blanket. "You just kind of disappeared for a few days there."

 _I was worried_.

"I told you there was nothing to worry yourself over."

Clarke huffed noisily, dropping the blanket, annoyed at the way she was being brushed off. "Well _excuse_ me for taking an interest in your well being. It's not every day a warrior princess inhabits my body and helps me take out a bunch of assholes intent on murdering my dad."

Lexa's figure turned, looking around her cell. Clarke rolled her eyes as Lexa ignored this second outburst and said, "These are your sleeping quarters?"

"For the time being," she grumbled. Lexa stared. "I've been imprisoned. Something you would've known days ago had you bothered to show up."

Lexa took a step closer. "Why would your people do such a thing?"

"I... _we_ beat up the wrong guy. Made a big stink about it."

"How much longer will you be imprisoned for?"

"A while."

"They are treating you well?"

Clarke smiled humourlessly. "Careful, Lexa, I might almost suspect you care."

The woman moved nearer. "I do care, Clarke," Lexa said genuinely, a slight yearning to her tone and a surge of affection.

Rather than acknowledge the moment, she crossed her arms and said, "I think I've answered enough of your questions. Your turn."

"There is nothing to tell," Lexa replied, stiffly. "I've simply been very busy."

Clarke was about to call bullshit when a sudden glaring brightness shone through the window causing her to wince and shield her eyes. One of the downfalls of having a window in space. Every hour and a half they entered the Sun's horizon.

As the brightness levelled off a bit, Lexa turned away from her and walked, or rather limped over to the window, staring up, visibly starting at the sight before her. The warrior reached up a shaky hand, and when she did so, Clarke could see it was bashed up like her own, but even more freshly bruised. While Lexa was distracted with the view, Clarke crept up behind her and said, "Nothing to tell, huh?"

As predicted, she jumped. "What... _where_ are you, Clarke?"

Despite her annoyance at being ignored, she felt compelled to answer. "On a big hunk of metal careening around Earth at seventeen and a half thousand miles per hour." Before Lexa could say anything else, Clarke stepped around to get a good look at her, gasping at the state of her face. One eye was nearly swollen shut and purple. There were a myriad of small cuts and one rather nasty gash running down her hairline to the bridge of her nose. Her lips were busted open and in general her face was bruised and unsightly, covered with a red paste, presumably some sort of medicine. She didn't want to think about who could have done this to someone of Lexa's skill and ability.

Clarke grabbed her hand, eliciting a grimace. She quickly released it and tried to catch Lexa's good eye. " _Now_ will you tell me what happened?"

"This is nothing, Clarke."

" _Lexa._ "

Lexa sighed, wearily gesturing to her injuries. "The aftermath of my most recent negotiations with The Ice Nation. Needless to say, they went poorly."

"The Ice Nation?"

She nodded. "I've been trying to unite the clans for nearly two years now. A few are too proud and short sighted to see the benefits of such a union. None more so than The Ice Nation." She licked her swollen lips, flinched, and glanced away. "Much has been lost."

The brief swell of emotion told Clarke there was more to this story, but she knew better than to push Lexa any further than she already had, not when she was finally opening up. Still, she was incredibly confused and wanted a little more information to understand her situation better.

"I thought you were underground, in a bunker or something."

Lexa looked at her curiously. "I thought the same of you. I thought you were one of them." Clarke gave her a blank look. "The mountain men. I'm glad you are not, even if you could have been of significant use to me." Lexa grit her teeth, showcasing bloody gums. "I loathe them almost as much as The Ice Queen."

_Clans? Mountain Men? Ice Queen's?_

She was starting to get a headache. "I think you better start from the beginning."

* * *

The main thing Clarke took away from their discussion was that Earth was survivable. Terrifyingly horrific, full of pointless bloodshed, kidnappers, and fog that burned your flesh off, but survivable.

"Do you know what this means?!" she yelled into Lexa's face, grabbing her shoulders. "My people are no longer doomed!" Lexa looked slightly afraid of the manic look in her eye and tried to shuffle away from her on the bed. Clarke let her go, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. This is just really exciting news."

"What did you mean before, about your people being doomed?"

Clarke shrugged. "There's only so much oxygen left up here. Our ventilation system is dying." Then she perked right up. "But enough about that. Show me Earth!" Lexa stared at her with her one good eye. Clarke's face fell. "Oh, I'm so stupid. Of course you'll want to rest. Never mind." Lexa stood up with difficulty, turned to her and held out her hand. "You're sure?"

The commander nodded and Clarke squealed as she jumped out of the bed and took her hand. The next instant they were in a large tent that contained a central table covered with big pieces of parchment and crudely fashioned writing utensils, a throne made of tree branches and spears, and just behind them, a bed with furs from various different animals atop it.

Clarke released Lexa's hand and began running her own across the furs. They were so incredibly soft. There was nothing like this on The Ark, except for some really old taxidermy some eccentric professor had brought up there before the Nuclear War, and even that was not the same. All of their clothes and blankets were made out of synthetic, itchy fabric. The contrast was startling. She flopped down and rubbed them against her skin. She pretended not to notice how strongly they smelled of Lexa's earthy, musky scent, and simply enjoyed the feel of them.

Lexa looked down at her in well disguised amusement. "I thought you wanted to see Earth, Clarke, not my bed?"

Clarke flushed and let go what she thought might be a rabbit pelt pillow. Her mounting excitement pushed the embarrassment away with aplomb. "Lead the way, commander."

Lexa moved through the flaps of her tent and the first thing Clarke noticed was the warmth of the sun on her skin, and the light cool breeze blowing past. She closed her eyes as the smells enveloped her. Owing to the fact that they were in the middle of what appeared to be a somewhat dirty army, not all were pleasant. But she cherished them all the same because they meant one thing: life, glorious, non-space life. The grounders had survived, and if she were very lucky, one day she might actually get to be here with her family...and with Lexa, for real. The idea had her laughing and feeling freer than she had ever felt before in her rat-in-a-cage life. She danced around the big bearded, tattooed guy who was coming over to them, and Lexa's lips twitched.

"Commander, you should be resting. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly."

"Thank you for your concern, Nyko, but I am fine."

They observed each other for a moment, the commander putting on her indifferent, don't mess with me face. "Commander," he said quietly, looking away, slinking off.

Clarke could feel that Lexa was not fine, that she was in even more physical pain than before, and the guilt of forcing Lexa to cater to her wishes had her stopping the childish twirling around business. This was enough for now. It wasn't like Earth was going anywhere.

"Clarke?" she said, arching a brow.

"I think all the excitement has gone to my head. I need to lie down." She stepped a little closer, until Lexa was almost in reach. "Will you keep me company until I fall asleep?"

It was such an obvious ploy, but Lexa dipped her head all the same and limped into the tent. Clarke sighed at finding herself back in her cell. Still, she was exhausted, so it was easy enough to drift off. "Thank you, Lexa," she muttered, gliding a hand down her arm, linking their fingers. "Get better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, they so cute. And F U Ice Nation.


	4. Chapter 4

The next five days saw Clarke periodically popping in on Lexa to see how she was doing and to explore the grounder camp further. Most of the warriors were big burly bearded men that she would not want to meet unarmed, but some were closer to Lexa's size, and equally fierce. Their clothing was just as colourless and depressing as her own people's. Clarke thought it a great shame that Lexa's wardrobe was so limited. She was sure the woman would look fantastic in some light green to match her startling shade of eye. The grounders themselves did not speak much, and when they did, it was usually in jest while they pummelled each other on sparring ground. After only a few fights, she couldn't force herself to watch anymore, they were just too bloody and brutal and _real_. Nothing like the fake fight scenes in old films.

"They are restless," Lexa informed her.

"Yeah but do they have to be so excited about beating the crap out of each other?"

"You might think our ways harsh, but it's how we survive. And it's how we'll overcome the remaining clans; with skill and resilience."

Despite that less savoury aspect of grounder culture, Clarke was enjoying her time in camp. The food was better than she was accustomed to, roast boar in particular was a treat for her taste buds. She was also very taken with the trees and vegetation all around, and the horses, smelly as they were. Lexa promised to take her on to both of these when she was able. For now Clarke had to content herself with running her hands across tree trunks and grass, and patting Lexa's great white war horse while the commander fed her an apple.

Clarke laughed. "This tickles!" Lexa smiled, her lips less split and bruised than they were before. "What's her name?"

"Athena."

"How fitting." Lexa looked at her curiously. "The goddess of war? Greek mythology? Really, nothing?" Clarke shook her head and then grinned. "You have much to learn young grasshopper." Clarke laughed again at her confused expression and then linked their arms. They meandered to the middle of camp where there was a large enough gap in the tree canopy to easily see the night sky. Thousands of diamonds twinkled, some millions of miles away.

"The Greeks believed in many Gods, the ultimate of which was Zeus. Legend has it that Zeus placed constellations in the sky to honour those that he thought worthy. A constellation is just a formation of stars," she said in response to Lexa's unasked, but heard, question. "Anyway, there's a whole bunch of them and they all have some epic story behind them." Her astronomy was pretty hazy, and completely theoretical, but she decided to give it a go anyway. She traced out a pattern with her finger. "That's Orion, the hunter."

Lexa squinted where she had pointed. "That looks nothing like a hunter."

"Well, it is." _Maybe_ , she thought to herself, _I can't really remember_. "You have to use your imagination. You _do_ have one of those, right?" Lexa made a face but didn't comment. "Orion fell in love with the moon goddess, Artemis, but in doing so, she started to neglect her duty. Her brother...Apollo didn't like this so he fought Orion...and then they both died."

"That does not sound like a very epic story, Clarke," Lexa said dryly.

Clarke rolled her eyes but couldn't think of an appropriate retort because it was true, especially the pathetic way she had inaccurately told it. She bit the inside of her cheek while Lexa smirked at her. Clarke drew out the next constellation she could remember. "That's Sagittarius, the archer...he uh, he invented the concept of...applause," she muttered, cringing at her terrible choice. Surprisingly Lexa did not mock her mercilessly, in fact, Clarke was now the one grinning again. "You don't know what applause is? What do you do after you watch a performance?"

Lexa held her head high. "When my warriors perform a feat of extreme strength or ingenuity, I simply congratulate them with words."

"But like, when your people have festivals and dance for you, what do you do? Do you just stand there and stare?"

"I am the commander of many clans, Clarke, I don't have time to watch such frivolous things. And even if I did I would not...applaud."

"It's really easy, Lexa, just clap your hands together," she said demonstrating. "Go on, try."

"I will not."

"How come?"

"Because, Clarke," Lexa said exasperatedly, "unlike you, I am in the middle of my camp and do not wish to look like I have lost my mind."

Clarke gave her an evil look. "Yeah, 'cause standing here talking to yourself is soooo much better." Before Lexa could say anything, she grabbed her hands and made Lexa clap a few times. Warriors looked over at the unusual sound emanating from their leader. Lexa pretended as though she hadn't made it by quickly snatching her dagger and examining it.

"When are you going to leave me be?" she hissed, jaw tense.

"Ah, come on," Clarke pouted, "I was just having a little fun. There's nothing else for me to do up here."

Lexa unclenched her fist and looked up. "Where are you?"

"You can't see The Ark right now. It's crossing over The Southern Hemisphere. If you _could_ see it, it'd just look like a big twinkly star that was moving."

"How does it stay up so high in the sky?"

Clarke briefly explained about gravity and orbits and thrusters. Even with the aid of internal visualizations, Lexa didn't completely get it. Clarke silently observed Lexa, who seemed lost in thought. Then her eyes flickered down to Clarke's, steady and full of purpose.

"If your people are running out of air, they should come to the ground."

"We should," agreed Clarke with a bob of the head, "but it's easier said than done." Lexa arched an eyebrow. "No one wants to come down here."

"Why not?" she frowned, seemingly offended.

"They think we'd die from radiation exposure. And to be perfectly frank with you, I'm still not entirely sure we wouldn't."

"You are nothing like the Mountain Men," Lexa affirmed. "You are strong. Resilient. You will survive."

"Perhaps," she said, looking off to the side. She heard her cell door opening and someone speaking her name. "Gotta go, Lexa."

"Hi, Clarke," said Wells, hands behind his back. He hazarded a smile that never seemed to look quite right on his face. "I would have come to see you sooner but I'm only allowed this one visit and I wanted to get you something first." He held his hands out, palms up and unfurled his fingertips.

"Charcoal," she said dully, not moving closer to retrieve them, or embrace him.

"What's wrong?" he asked uncertainly.

"I've had a lot of time to think, Wells," she said slowly, doing her best to keep her hurt and rage in check, "and I've come to the conclusion that _someone_ must have betrayed my trust."

Wells furrowed his brow. "And you think that someone was me?"

"Who else?" she spat out. "You were the only one I told!" Wells stood there in consternation, like he was at war with himself. She took no pity on him. "Isn't that why you tried to help save my dad in the final hour? Why you've come bearing gifts? A guilty conscience can be a real bitch."

"Clarke," he said, taking a few timid steps closer.

She raised her hand and said, "Don't. Just go. I don't want to speak to you right now. Maybe never."

Her best friend since...forever, swallowed hard and nodded. Once he turned to leave he stooped and placed the charcoal pieces by the door. Without glancing back, he left, and it was only then that she allowed herself to feel a severe pang of sadness and regret.

She stared at the black chunks of condensed carbon for awhile, thinking about how he used to trade in his things so that she could have a constant stream of art supplies, how he always just wanted her to be happy. The reminder made his betrayal all the harder to cope with, so she sunk onto her bed, head in her hands, willing herself not to cry.

"Your friend did not betray you, Clarke," Lexa said, now sitting right beside her, thighs touching.

She looked over to glare at her. "And what would _you_ know about it?"

Unconcernedly, "I know what you know, what you _feel_ to be true. And deep down you sense he didn't do this."

"Is that so?" she retaliated, moving away from her. She whirled around. "Then _who_ did?!"

Lexa just stared at her with her one good (and one still partially swollen) eye. "You know, Clarke. You have always known."

"You're wrong," she choked out. "She wouldn't!"

"If you were so certain, would you be getting so distraught?"

She shook her head, closing her eyes, willing Lexa to disappear, to stop from having to face the ugly reality of it all. "Go away!" she yelled. "Go away!"

Lexa's hands came to rest on her shoulders and she stilled. "It's a terrible fate to feel compelled to hate a beloved family member...one that I know all too well."

"You do?" she asked quietly, glancing up.

Lexa nodded curtly, leading her back to the bed. "Our winters are harsh. Without certain precautions, one can easily fall prey to the elements. My parents went hunting one day, leaving me behind in the relative warmth and safety of our home. They were gone for far too long and I started to worry. I tried to leave our hut in search of them, but a blizzard kept me at bay. Fear plays terrible tricks on ones mind and I imagined all manner of horrors befalling them...It was nightfall by the time the storm abated. I knew it was not safe to travel through the snow in the dark. There were too many pitfalls, too many wild things that could do me harm. Still, I was a zealous child, determined to find my parents, to rescue them if needs be. I set forth with nothing but my dagger for protection, heading in the direction I last saw them take. I trudged through the snow for what seemed like hours, the chill creeping past my clothing's defences and settling into my bones. Just when I decided I should turn back, I saw them."

Lexa paused, licking her lips. Clarke took her mending hand and squeezed it gently. Lexa drew courage from this and continued her monotonous narration of past traumas, eyes trained on the far wall.

"I will never forget the sight of my father carrying my mother's mangled form in his arms, the moon illuminating her like some cruel offering to the Gods...They were attacked by a Great Wolf. A rare occurrence, but not unheard of. My father had escaped unscathed, and I decided he must not have tried hard enough to save her, never mind the fact that he carried her for miles and miles through thick and treacherous snowfall. She wasn't supposed to die. Not when I still needed her for guidance, for the love and support that only a mother can provide. And because of this, I could not see past my own pain, and vowed to hate him forevermore. Soon after I was called to lead my people and left to train with my mentor, Anya. I never saw or spoke to him again. He died thinking I hated him."

Lexa sighed deeply, the clashing emotion hitting Clarke hard. "The truth is, I never really had. I was just too foolish and prideful to make amends for perceived wrongs."

Lexa looked at Clarke, her own anguish reflecting back at her.

"You may think it is your duty as a devoted daughter to hate your mother for her betrayal, for failing you and your father. But it isn't. You need to forgive her transgression, Clarke, while you still have the chance. Don't make the same mistake I did. You do not want the weight of those ghosts on your shoulders. They will only bend and break you more with each and every passing day. And you deserve better than that."

Clarke smiled weakly at her while Lexa thumbed away the tears, cupping the side of her face. Clarke moved to embrace Lexa, to be assailed by more of their shared emotion and pain, as if that would be sufficient penance for her deplorable treatment of Wells.

"Thank you, Lexa," she whispered into her ear. "I needed to hear that."

In response, Lexa only held her tighter, and Clarke couldn't believe her good fortune at being bonded with such a wonderful and understanding person.

"I'll convince them to go to Earth," she vowed. "I'll find a way."

_I have to be with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck Clarkikens.
> 
> I couldn't stop hearing that 'I live for the applause' song in my head. Anyone else?


	5. Chapter 5

"You are distracted," Anya muttered to her while one of her Generals droned on and on about their latest skirmish with The Ice Nation. He was painstakingly going through every minutiae of the battle, as if that would lead to a magical solution to subduing their uncooperative brethren. There was only one thing that would make them bend the knee, and that was killing or capturing their Queen.

_Cut off the head and the rest will follow._

Normally Lexa would have told him to shut up by now. Naturally, this aberration in behaviour was easily sussed out by her old mentor. And naturally Anya unabashedly drew attention to it.

"You are mistaken," she said, even as she looked over from her throne to Clarke who was contemplating the war table scenario, brow furrowed in concentration.

"This is just like chess," said Clarke, moving to another spot to get a different viewpoint of the battle.

"Then why do you keep staring at empty spaces?"

"I'm not," she lied again, following Clarke's progress around the table.

"It's a game of strategy," Clarke elaborated further. "The goal is to checkmate...capture the King. This usually involves taking out the Queen first since she's the most powerful and tricky opponent. The rules don't apply to her the same way they do for everyone else."

_Yes, I am well aware of that_.

Clarke looked in Lexa's direction, smirking slightly. "The story behind that is kind of funny. Back in Medieval times, the Queen was actually one of the weakest pieces, but as we became more enlightened as a society, as women started to be valued more, they changed this. Basically the influential Queen's of the times didn't like that they were represented so poorly and forced the game designers to change it." Clarke laughed and Lexa fought to keep a straight face under Anya's undue scrutiny. "I guess they went a little overboard in an effort to keep their heads."

"You've been distracted a lot lately," said Anya shrewdly, looking where she was looking. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's none of your concern," she replied, distractedly.

Anya glared at her sideways. "It _is_ my concern when it nearly gets you killed."

Clarke frowned at that, all trace of merriment gone. "What is she talking about?"

Lexa clenched her jaw and shook her head stiffly, willing Anya to shut up.

"Don't try to deny it, Lexa," said Anya. "I was there with you. One second you had gained the upper hand on that treacherous snake, Verys, the next you inexplicably dropped your guard and got your skull bashed in."

"I'm the reason you got hurt?" Clarke said quietly, clearly upset.

Lexa's hand went to the clasp of her dagger and fiddled with it, a telltale sign she was agitated. Anya took no pity on her protegee's obvious discomfort and continued to make matters worse. "Nyko says you were lucky to survive such a blow, let alone wake up from it. Most of us had written you off for dead."

And that was the breaking point. Clarke disappeared with a sob and Lexa forgot her place.

"Clarke!" she said too loudly, hopping out of her throne before she realized what she was doing.

All of the Generals stared at her, like they didn't know what to make of such a display.

"Meeting adjourned," she said hastily, before they could question her. They didn't move. "Get out!" she ordered vehemently, sending them fleeing. Lexa whirled on Anya. "You too!" She needed to get rid of her right now so that she could go speak with Clarke in peace.

"Who is Clarke?" Anya said unconcernedly, even as Lexa's hand gripped the hilt of her sword, even as she glowered with barely restrained menace.

Lexa licked her lips as she tried to slow her frantic pulse and murderous instincts. She took a step closer, trying to be as imposing as possible towards the taller, impassive warrior. "I'm only going to say this once more, Anya. Leave now, before I do something we both regret."

They faced off for a time, both believing themselves to be the superior warrior, (should it come to that) and then blessedly, Anya backed off, a rarity for her.

"You are only delaying the inevitable," she said before leaving.

Lexa waited a few more fleeting moments to make sure she was really alone and then relaxed into the flow of energy and life, into the tether attached to her heart and mind. She found Clarke curled up in a ball at the foot of her bed, chin resting on knees. She had been crying again and the sight brought a quiver to her own throat. For all her bravado, now that she was here, she wasn't quite sure what to say or do, and just stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the clasp of her dagger.

Eventually Clarke looked up and thickly said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She moistened her lips and swallowed through the tightness. "I didn't want to upset you."

Clarke choked back a laugh, shaking her head. "God, Lexa, you're impossible."

Lexa frowned at this assertion, uncomprehending.

"I almost get you killed and then you don't have the decency to smack me upside the head."

"Why would I desire to do such a thing? You didn't mean to injure me."

"No," Clarke affirmed, breath shaky, "but I should've known all the same that you were busy fighting for your life. I shouldn't have been so needy." She glanced away, hugging her knees tighter. "Anya's right, I'm just a big distraction...and one day it's going to get you killed. Just like Orion. All I do is bring trouble. You should just stay away from me."

Lexa surged forth and knelt by her side, resting a hand overtop the distraught girls knees. "That's not going to happen, Clarke. Even if I wanted to stay away- which I don't- I don't think I _could_."

Clarke groaned and said, "And that just makes it a million times worse. You don't even have a _choice_ in the matter. You're stuck with this useless, snivelling cry baby _forever._ You deserve so much better than that. Your _people_ deserve so much better than that. The universe is conspiring against you and I hate it. I _hate_ it."

The intensity of her self loathing startled and saddened Lexa. To see such a bright, generous soul reduced to this level of bitterness was almost more than she could bear. The unshed tears stung but she couldn't allow herself to break down, not when Clarke needed her to be strong.

She brought a hand up to gently grip her chin, to turn her face until Clarke looked her in the eyes.

"You have never been anything but a blessing to me, Clarke."

Clarke scoffed and attempted to turn away, but Lexa held firm and waited for her to make eye contact again before continuing. Their connection always seemed infinitely stronger when she peered into those endless blue skies.

"I was in a dark place before you came along. Colder and more ruthless than I had ever been. I did unforgivable things...hurt people I didn't need to hurt just for the sake of giving my hands something to do, just so I wouldn't have to feel the agony that threatened to pull me apart at any moment."

It was nearly impossible for her to keep staring into the windows of Clarke's soul as she admitted this. But she had a captivated audience in Clarke, so Lexa did what she always had, she persevered.

"I once told you that much was lost as a consequence of this war." She clenched her jaw, swallowing hard and did her best to stifle the trembling in her hands and throat. "The woman I loved, she was taken from me...brutally slayed. The Ice Queen sent me her head."

"Oh, God, Lexa," exclaimed Clarke, grasping the hand on her knee. "That's terrible." Clarke squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry."

Lexa dipped her head, and took a deep, albeit jittery breath. The wounds were still fresh and might never fully heal, but she was determined to try, determined to let Costia go...for Clarke's sake. "I vowed from that day forth that I would never love again. For love is weakness-"

"And you were right," Clarke said scathingly. "It is."

"No, Clarke, it _isn't_ ," she said a bit impatiently, even as her heart fluttered. "Love is the thing that lifts us up and takes us to new unimaginable heights. Love is the only thing worth living for, worth fighting for. Without it, we are nothing but empty shells, mockeries of all we could be." She stroked the side of Clarke's face with her thumb and smiled slightly when Clarke leaned into the touch. "You helped me to remember that."

Clarke released a shuddering breath that seemed to hold the heaviness of a thousand years of turmoil. Impossible for one so young and heartbreaking all the more for it. Lexa desired to free her of this burden, if only for a moment.

She leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Clarke's lips. Though Lexa was only here in spirit, she could feel how supple and wet they were, how yielding. It was surreal how real it felt. Surreal and intoxicating. Clearly Clarke felt the same way as her hands came up to her neck, pulling gently, drawing Lexa closer towards her. Their positions were rather awkward, and as such, she shifted, lost her balance, and consequently had to shoot a hand out to the bed behind Clarke to steady herself. Except it didn't work. Lexa's body on Earth had no such support, and her hand passed through empty air. The collision of her torso with the ground drove her spirit back unceremoniously. She blinked in confusion and annoyance from the dirt in front of her throne.

Lexa intended to go straight back but then she noticed a pair of muddied boots. Attached to the boots was none other than Anya. She was staring down at Lexa with such an incredulous expression, it was almost comical. Under different circumstances, she might have even laughed. As it was, she was infuriated at being disobeyed, at Anya hearing things not meant for her ears.

"I thought I told you to get out!" she snapped, pushing herself to her feet.

"I did," said Anya, now frowning. "I stood right outside your tent. And then I heard you talking to yourself...which I suppose is why you've assigned the deaf boy, Curtis, to stand guard." The disdain and disapproval intensified. "I poked my head in and you seemed oblivious, so I came in closer and listened to you spout sentimental drivel to this Clarke person."

As if on cue, Clarke popped into existence right beside Anya.

"Lexa, what are you do- oh shit!"

Lexa couldn't help but glance over, features softening.

Anya's gaze flickered between them. "She's here right now, isn't she?"

"Do you want me to go?" asked Clarke, rubbing her arm, biting her lip.

How Lexa wanted to do the same. She shook her head ever so slightly, hopeful to be rid of Anya soon and resume where they left off.

After resting a hand on the war planning table, she looked to her mentor. Lexa could deny Clarke's existence further, but there seemed little point. Anya would not drop this matter until she knew the truth - or at least _part_ of the truth - and Lexa preferred not to be interrupted again.

"Yes, she is."

Anya observed her for a time, likely debating whether or not she had lost her mind and should inform the other clan leaders that she was no longer fit to command them. No commander had ever gone insane before, so how to proceed would be new territory. Should she be immediately killed so a new sane commander could be born into existence? Or should she undergo various tedious (and likely ineffective) cleansing rituals to rid her of her demons?

"Grief does strange things to people sometimes. When did this hallucination start?"

"She's not a hallucination, Anya," Lexa said levelly, tapping her fingers on the table top, biding her time as she tried to think of a clear way to explain the phenomenon to an outsider. Saying that Clarke lived in the sky was probably not a good way to go.

Clarke spoke up. "It's like finding a part of yourself that you never knew existed, but that is more real and precious to you than you ever thought possible."

This was accurate but it wasn't particularly helpful. Lexa decided not to say as much since Clarke was fairly fragile right now. The last thing Lexa wanted to do was make her feel useless.

"True, Clarke, very true."

This garnered her a smile from one woman and a scowl from the other.

"All you need to know, Anya, is that Clarke and I are connected, body and spirit...and I've never been happier."

"Really?" Clarke asked moving over to grasp her hands. Lexa nodded and Clarke beamed at her. "Me too."

The shared affection tugged at the corners of her lips and she couldn't help but to give Clarke a small smile in return, even in this tense situation.

Anya was not impressed. "Such softness is not befitting of the commander."

Clarke turned to glare at her. "Just because _you've_ never smiled in your life doesn't mean no one else should."

Lexa squeezed her hand as she stifled her laughter.

Focus regained and redirected she coolly said, "It does not affect my ability to lead my people effectively. If anything, my previous state of mind was leading us astray."

"Doesn't it?" Anya said tersely.

They faced off again, Lexa's unease growing. Outwardly she remained impassive and stoic. "What do you intend to do? Will you tell the clan leaders?"

"No," she said after what seemed like an eternity. Both her and Clarke breathed easier.

Their relief was short lived.

"Not yet. But the next time you needlessly endanger yourself or others, I will."

Anya's vow hung heavy in the air between them as she took her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duh!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This beginning part took me forever to write because I couldn't stop laughing.

"Oh, the taste of your lips, I'm on a riiide."

Clarke was currently singing one of her favourite oldies while she lathered her hair up in one of the bi-weekly showers allotted to delinquents. It was a blessed relief to wash away all of the accumulated grime from the past three days and she wished she could stay under the warm water forever, but delinquent and upstanding citizen alike were only allowed three minutes per shower - or just enough time for a classic pop song. There was only so much water on The Ark at any given time and the purifier took just as long to recycle this as it did to use it. When the water filtration system broke down, as it was periodically inclined to do, they would have to forgo bathing altogether or risk severe dehydration. Those were not pleasant times in the cramped, close quarters of their metal prison.

"You're toxic, I'm slippin' under. With a taste of a poison paradiiise."

Her eyes were closed and she was so into the catchy song that she didn't immediately sense Lexa's presence. But as soon as she did, they shot open to find the commander unabashedly staring at her nakedness. Due to the small enclosed showering space, they were only inches apart, and she was quite taken aback by this unexpected proximity. She jumped back into the wall, so that they were separated by the overhead waterfall, as if that could keep Lexa at bay.

"Lexa, what the hell?!" she exclaimed, blushing crimson as she struggled to cover herself.

Apparently any semblance of privacy was too much to ask for now that they had been connected for nearly three weeks.

"Stop looking at me!" she demanded after a few interminable seconds passed.

Lexa blinked rapidly, and set her dilated and hooded gaze on the non-slip metallic floor. "Forgive me, Clarke," she said, voice huskier than usual. At least she had the good grace to flush slightly behind her war paint.

Clarke wanted to shove her into the opposite wall to gain a little more room, or better yet, out of the shower stall altogether, but was afraid to remove her arm and hand from her intimate areas and risk being scrutinized again.

"What was so important that you couldn't wait five minutes?!"

Lexa shuffled awkwardly, her neck muscles straining, as if she was fiercely struggling not to look up again. She muttered something that Clarke didn't catch over the vertical stream of water pounding between them. Clarke would have turned it off early (before it automatically did) and grabbed her towel, but the shampoo was still thickly coating her hair and she wouldn't get another chance to rinse it out for three days.

"What?!"

"I said, the song you were singing was very alluring, and I...accidentally came here."

_Accident my ass!_

"Jesus, Lexa, have a little self control!"

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I believe that is what I am currently doing, Clarke," Lexa said, releasing a shaky breath, knuckles white against her sword hilt. After a beat she licked her lips and said, "You are very attractive...especially when wet."

If possible, Clarke blushed even harder and wanted to bury her face in her hands. To do that posed the same dilemma as before, so she refrained.

Beneath the mortification she was actually fairly flattered, but not nearly enough to throw caution to the wind and let Lexa push her up against the wall and have her way with her. As she thought this though, a slight twinge of heat found its way between her thighs and her pulse quickened.

The next second Lexa's eyes had snapped up to hers and Clarke gained a fleeting glimpse into her mind's eye, that of their naked forms crashing together as one while the steam from the shower swirled around them as surely as if it was coming from them. Lexa's arousal hit her hard then and the heat began to radiate upwards, a persistent throb refusing to go away. Unconsciously, she rubbed herself down there, her own touch startling her.

She bit her lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape.

And that was all it took for Lexa to lose the last of her self restraint. The commander was on her before she knew what was happening, chapped lips and tongue bombarding her own, firm body and armour pressing her against the wall, callused hands roaming up and down her sides, digging in occasionally, squeezing slick, yielding flesh.

From an outsider's point of view, it would have looked strange, from her own, it was ludicrous. Lexa was dressed in her full commander gear, red sash and all. Water was pouring down her face, smearing the paint, causing it to drip down her chin and onto Clarke's heaving chest. It made a muddy foam with the shampoo which wasn't very enticing, but this was of little concern to her at the moment.

"Shampoo," she muttered against Lexa's insistent lips. "Eyes...burning."

Lexa pivoted them around, held her under the water for a few seconds and then smashed her into the other side of the shower. As Lexa suckled on her neck, a particularly loud moan made its way out. Spurred on by this approval, Lexa's hands travelled lower, clutching at her ass roughly. Clarke gasped, inadvertently yanking on Lexa's braids, eliciting a grunt. The commander retaliated by pining her arms to her sides and nipping at her breasts.

"Oh, God," she groaned as the warrior mercilessly and methodically attacked her nipples, teeth like steel blades, as if they were the enemies in her clan wars.

The ache in her loins was almost unbearable and she would need some relief soon or she would self implode.

"Lexa," she rasped, squirming against her iron grip and diabolical ministrations. "Lexa, please."

The plea had been unnecessary. Lexa was already latched onto Clarke's neck again as she trailed her fingers down her stomach, past her navel and right onto her dripping and heated core. Clarke whimpered at the touch and Lexa stalled against her neck, grip tightening against Clarke's pinned arm. Without any further preamble, Lexa fluidly thrust into her and skillfully proceeded to drive her wild. Clarke was more or less stuck to the spot though so all she could do was thrash in place, moaning every few seconds. Lexa joined her in this, breath becoming increasingly ragged, praise on her neck more sporadic, until it ceased altogether.

When she was close to coming, Lexa rumbled, "Look at me."

Clarke's eyes fluttered open. Everything Lexa was feeling - excitement, pleasure...love? - surged through her and it was the trigger that finally sent them over the edge.

"Lexa!"

"Clarke!"

Clarke shifted in and out of Lexa's physical body on Earth a few times, quick as lightning, so that she barely had time to comprehend it, and then shuddered into solidity once more. Lexa released her throbbing wrist and together they sunk to the ground, equally spent and exhausted.

Clarke laughed and airily said, "What...a...ride."

Lexa chuckled wearily at that, placing her now severely splotched face into the crook of Clarke's neck. Clarke would have been amused with how cautious she was being, making sure not to lean too far forward, but Lexa's stupid spiky shoulder guard poked into her collarbone uncomfortably. It was acutely bothersome now that Lexa's fingers were no longer working their magic inside her. She shifted their positions, so that she was curled up between Lexa's bent legs. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke's torso protectively, and rested her chin on top of Clarke's head.

Some time passed as they came down from their shared high. If it was this intense when they weren't even in the same physical location, what would it be like when they were?

"Clarke," Lexa said suddenly, letting go and awkwardly crawling over her in the cramped quarters until they were face to face. She clenched her jaw, looking guilty. "Did I...hurt you?"

"Well, you _were_ a little rough," she said, with a bat on the nose, smirking. "It was pretty hot though." Lexa still looked uncertain so Clarke took her hand in an attempt to instill encouragement. "Lexa?"

"Had you...had you been with someone before me?" she said, eyes darting all over the place. "I'm sorry...I should have asked before we...before I-"

Clarke put a finger to her lips and Lexa stopped babbling adorably. "You're not my first."

Lexa nodded curtly, seemingly both relieved and jealous, as if she had wanted to deflower her, as if she should have had the right because she is the big strong knight in shining armour, and Clarke, the fair haired, virginal maiden. The idea made her snort and Lexa arched an eyebrow in confusion. Clarke just shook her head and tugged on Lexa's fur lined collar, pulling her into a soft kiss.

"But you are the most clothed," she breathed out afterwards. Lexa glanced down in a surprised manner, like she didn't even realize she had never stripped down. "That can be easily remedied," Clarke continued, undoing the straps to the damn spiky shoulder guard.

Lexa stilled her hand. "Actually, Clarke, I'm afraid I must be going. I was preparing to ride out before I came here. If I don't make an appearance soon, Anya will come looking for me, and I'd rather not have her walk in on me naked..."

"Making uncommanderlike noises?" grinned Clarke, pushing a firm hand into her crotch.

" _Clarke_ ," warned Lexa, her voice hardly full of conviction. It was obvious that Lexa desperately wanted to stay.

_Serves her right for just popping into my goddamn shower! Speaking of..._

She groaned internally when she finally realized the water had stopped flowing and there was still some shampoo left in her hair. She would have to try to rinse the rest out in the sink, which was never a very fun task since they were expressively designed to prevent unauthorized usage.

Her discontent did not last long because there was a rap on the side of the semi opaque shower stall, and she froze. Clarke nearly laughed upon finding Lexa doing the same thing, as if her distorted shadow could actually be seen by the guard.

Some instincts ran deeper than common sense.

"Inmate, what are you still doing in there? Your shower ended fifteen minutes ago!"

_Crap!_

"I'm coming out right now," she called to the surly woman, getting to her feet with Lexa's help, avoiding any real explanation.

"You've upset the entire schedule for the day, Griffin."

_You could've come in to fucking collect me earlier._

Admittedly, she was rather glad she hadn't.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry's not good enough. I'm stripping shower privilege's for a week."

_Bitch!_

"No, please, I promise this will never happen again!"

Neither Clarke nor Lexa were particularly pleased with the prospect of not repeating their impromptu rendezvous, but she also preferred not smelling like the garbage disposal unit...and she was pretty sure Lexa would agree with that.

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I'd have a million dollars."

Clarke rolled her eyes at the antiquated saying that had no bearing whatsoever on their current economy and bartering system.

"You've got one minute to get dressed. If you're not ready by then, I'll take you back to your cell in your birthday suit, Chancellor's daughter or no."

Lexa glared in the guard's direction, looking ready for a fight. That was the last thing Clarke needed right now. She touched Lexa's forearm and shook her head. Lexa frowned for a few seconds before relaxing her fists. Clarke grabbed the edge of her hanging towel and swiftly wrapped herself in the itchy, yet absorbent material, gave Lexa a peck on the cheek, and dashed out of the stall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's the ultimate peeping Tom. Boundaries woman!
> 
> Anyone else sing along with Clarke? I forgot how weird the music video is.
> 
> Lexa has zero chill when it comes to naked Clarke. Can't really blame her though. And does this mean Lexa screwed herself?
> 
> So like, Lexa's war paint isn't actually running off under the water...but Clarke's brain sees what it expects to see...well, that's how I think of it anyway...and I suppose Clarke wouldn't actually be able to feel the spikes, since she can only feel what Lexa feels and the points are not touching her body...but whatever.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Lexa stood slightly behind Clarke, peering at her intently, not listening to a word she was saying. Clarke had been rambling on about using the reapers to subdue the Queen's army for the past half an hour. For a myriad of reasons this idea was nonsensical. Lexa didn't have the heart to tell her to shut up, so she tried a different approach. She turned Clarke around and kissed her on the forehead. Clarke blinked up in confusion.

"Lexa?"

"Do you really want to spend your birthday discussing war tactics?"

Clarke frowned. "Is that today?"

She nodded.

"Oh," Clarke muttered, still not seeming pleased by the idea.

Lexa understood that she was upset at not being able to spend the day with her family, her father especially. He had been busy running the Ark for the past month and Clarke hadn't seen him in all that time. Lexa knew all too well the burdens of leadership, the sacrifices that must be made for the betterment of their people. She planned on taking Clarke's mind off of Jake's absence by finally fulfilling her promise of taking Clarke horseback riding, among other things.

"Come, Clarke, Athena is waiting," Lexa said with an encouraging smile.

That seemed to perk Clarke right up. "You mean-"

"Yes, Clarke. Let us go for a ride."

Clarke grinned, "This is going to be so much fun!" and linked their arms together. Like always, Lexa masked her elbow sticking out by holding onto the hilt of her sword. She exited her tent and made her way to the makeshift stables.

While there was a stable hand, she preferred to saddle up herself. Clarke occupied herself by showering praise onto Athena's neck, excitedly whispering sentimental drivel, as Anya would say.

As she tightened the last of the straps, Indra came over to her, looking even graver than usual, which was quite the feat. According to Clarke, Indra needed to get laid. Lexa had made no comment, except to secretly smirk.

_Now what_? she silently sighed, frustrated. All she wanted was a few hours alone with Clarke on her birthday. Was that so much to ask?

"Commander, where are you going?"

"Away."

Indra sized her up for a bit before saying, "The scouts have reported movement in the East, not three miles from here."

Clarke looked at her from the other side of Athena, crestfallen. The disappointment hit Lexa in waves.

"Then I will go to the West," she said stubbornly.

"I would advise against-"

Darkly, "You dare to question my judgement?"

Her top General could be extremely annoying but at least she knew how to pick and choose her battles. That is, most of the time.

"If you must go, allow me to accompany you."

Lexa did not much care to be supervised on this excursion, it would make interacting with Clarke nearly impossible. Lexa had been looking forward to not having to disguise her every action, and speak in barely a whisper lest someone other than Anya start to notice. She was sure that her peak of pleasure with Clarke had not gone unheard. No one had said anything about it, but a few of the warriors had looked at her strangely as they rode out.

"We don't have to go," Clarke said glumly. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

The _again_ didn't need to be said and thickened the already suffocating air. She hated being trapped within her own camp like a common slave. She hated not being able to give Clarke a birthday worth remembering.

"No, I will ride alone," she said foolishly.

"Commander-"

"Enough!"

And with that Indra stormed off and Lexa attached the supply bag to the back of Athena.

Clarke came over to her and cautiously said, "Lexa-"

She cut her off with such a ferocious glare that Clarke actually looked frightened. Lexa felt the twinge of fear and it made her even more irritable than before.

"You can come with me, or you can stay in your cell," she barked, leading Athena out of the stables.

Lexa had made it all the way to the edge of the camp, Clarke nowhere to be found. She sighed and ascended her horse, resigned to make this journey on her own. Turning back now was not an option. But as she took the reins, Clarke appeared, sitting in front of her, practically molded.

Lexa kissed her (recently washed) bundle of hair and nudged Athena into a slow trot. Clarke had not allowed Lexa to come near her while she was 'gross and smelly' and so Lexa was exceedingly glad for that torment to be at an end. If she could have killed that guard without getting Clarke imprisoned forever, she would have.

"Where are we going?" Clarke asked after several minutes of strained silence.

"You will find out soon enough," she replied with a smirk.

She kicked Athena into a gallop and Clarke yelped at the sudden jarring acceleration. Athena was one of the fastest horses in the land. Few could outmatch her sprinting capabilities. And none were as skilled a rider as she. Or so it was said...when you were the Heda, it was difficult to get the absolute truth from your own people.

Once Clarke got over the shock, she laughed merrily for awhile. Lexa's own mood steadily improved as a result.

They charged along the twisting dirt path West for about eight miles before coming to an abrupt halt. Athena was barely winded.

"What a ride!" Clarke exclaimed, patting her somewhat wild - in her face - hair down. One of the reasons braids were often employed among her people.

The last time Clarke had uttered this, there had been decidedly less clothing. Lexa's anticipation began to mount as she gracefully descended.

She raised a hand to help Clarke down, but Clarke was already beside her, slipping her hand into her own.

Clarke glanced around the tree lined area and said, "Now where to?"

"Up," she said simply, tugging both Clarke and Athena into the forest.

Though she appeared indifferent enough, she was actually on full alert for any signs of natural and unnatural movement alike, anything at all that could potentially indicate a threat. The sun was still high enough in the sky to produce adequate lighting. It would not stay this way for much longer. She quickened her pace.

"How the hell are you walking so easily in this?" Clarke said in an aggravated manner, eyes trained on the ground as she narrowly avoided tripping on roots once again.

"Many years of practice," she answered. "It is a necessity, a way of life. The hunter will quickly become the hunted if they cannot move without looking down."

Besides some birds and other small rodents, there were no disturbances here, except for Clarke's horrific stomping around. Even Athena was much quieter than her invisible companion. Thankfully no one but Lexa could hear Clarke.

They arrived at the Great Tree Lexa intended to climb. The climb was arduous but well worth the effort. It was the tallest tree for miles around and provided a breathtaking view of the valley below and a portion of The Trigedakru lands that she ruled over.

Clarke looked up, bending backwards almost, and gaped. She looked to Lexa wide eyed. "You're not thinking of _climbing_ that thing, are you?"

"The Trikru are skilled in the ways of tree climbing, Clarke."

Clarke bit her lip and Lexa resisted the urge to do the same. "I know, but...isn't this...isn't this dangerous?"

"No more so than hunting a pauna."

It was a joke but Clarke didn't understand and Lexa decided not to elaborate. Instead she removed her sword and sheathe both, attaching it to the side of Athena's saddle. She also dispensed of her calf length jacket and draped it across the saddle as well. This exposed her sleeveless tunic and arm tattoo. Clarke's eyes snapped to it as she strapped on the supply bag. She grinned at Clarke, ran at the tree, jumped, kicked off it at the apex, and grabbed on to the first thick branch, pulling herself up with relative ease.

She looked down at Clarke who was goggling up at her. "I will see you at the top."

Before Clarke could object further, she turned to the next branch and jumped higher.

* * *

Twenty minutes later she had reached the top of the two hundred foot behemoth without major incident, panting heavily, a fine sheen of sweat coating her forehead, coating her entire body. She wiped the sting out of her eyes with the back of her gloves. It had been harder than she remembered. She had last climbed this particular tree shortly before she became the commander, when she was almost sixteen. That was four years ago. It felt like another lifetime, so much had changed since then, so many impossible decisions had been asked of her. One of the many reasons why she enjoyed Clarke's company so much was because the younger girl helped her to remember what it was like to be her own person, not exactly care free, but whole, and soaring on occasion, the burdens of her station lessening as a result.

Clarke made herself known by saying, "Whoa, what is this place?"

Lexa steadied her breathing. "An old scouting post." She took in a gulp of air. "It has not been in use for some time."

"Why?" Clarke asked as she walked past a warning horn, to peer through the opening of the tied together sticks that formed the posts enclosed structure. The elements could be unforgiving this high up with no canopy coverage. The woven, yet implacable roof had been a necessity for long scouting shifts.

She joined a silently awed Clarke, who was soaking everything in for the first time. To be this high was to be one with the birds, to lord over the forest, to rule. The sense of wonderment coming off of her almost made Lexa feel the same. She smiled.

"Since I gained control of these lands, of the neighbouring clans, there was no need to oversee them from here."

She said this a little louder than was her wont. The wind blew more fiercely from this dizzying height. The entire structure groaned and creaked along with Mother Nature, as if it were as alive as the tree beneath them. Most newcomers found these noises disconcerting, afraid the floor might give way at any moment. So far Clarke was too enraptured by the view to care.

Clarke darted an eye sideways at her before glancing back at the sea of green below them. "Isn't that a little arrogant of you?"

Lexa focused her gaze on the hint of blue peeking through a patch of trees, where a pristine lake resided. Maybe one day they would go for a swim...

"There are other posts along the way to Tondc, Clarke," she said with a faint twitch of lips. "We do not rely solely on this one. Which is for the best. There have been a number of...mishaps. Some say this tree is cursed."

Clarke glared at her, presumably for belittling her fears earlier. Then she stuck her head out of the opening and peered down. Her breath quickened at the sheer drop. She moved back shaking her head.

"Why didn't you guys just build a rope ladder or something?"

"There was one once, but it was used by the enemy to slit the watchers throats."

Clarke frowned and then made her way to the opposite side of the post. She squinted into the distance, into the setting sun and pointed. "What is that?"

Lexa grasped the sticks in front of her. "The Mountain."

Clarke contemplated that. "You still have no idea how to get in there?"

Lexa shook her head, nails digging into the damp wood. "No one has ever made it out of there alive."

"I'm sorry, Lexa," Clarke said, stroking her arm before placing a hand over top hers.

Lexa dipped her head solemnly and they stayed that way for several minutes, simply watching as the last rays of orange were extinguished by the edge of the forest. Then she brought Clarke's hand up to her lips and said, "That climb has awakened my appetite. Would you care to join me for a small repast?"

Clarke smiled. "That sounds nice."

Lexa moved a few paces, hunched over and picked up a large black bear pelt. She smacked it a dozen or so times, doing her best to remove years worth of dust and dirt. Lexa stifled a sneeze that Clarke released and she grinned at the blonde, who rolled her eyes. The pelt still didn't smell all that clean, but it would have to do. She brought it to the centre of the platform, dropped it, and then proceeded to remove the pack from her back. They settled down together on the fur, facing one another, legs crossed. Lexa pulled out various pouches full of nuts and berries and dried meats. She also retrieved a wine skin, something that Clarke was clearly happy about.

"I wanted to prepare a feast in your honour, but unfortunately I could not." Her eyes were laughing. "I thought that might look a tad strange to my people."

Clarke rolled her eyes again, Lexa smiled slightly and then reached for some berries. She popped a few into her mouth and chewed. Clarke closed her eyes, savouring the taste. Then she licked her lips.

"These are different from what I've had before, right?"

"Yes," she said with a nod. "Juju's. Quite fragrant and juicy. They're a rare berry that grow high up in Gregor trees. I handpicked them myself."

"Well, I definitely appreciate the effort," Clarke said with another smile. "They're so good! Now feed me more of them!" she demanded, shaking Lexa's legs playfully.

* * *

Once they had supped, Lexa was feeling pretty full and a bit tipsy. They were lying on the fur, fingers and legs entwined, just staring at one another. Finally Clarke broke the silence.

"Thank you for this birthday surprise, Lexa. It was wonderful."

"You're wonderful," she replied, sincerely meaning it. "Happy Birthday, Clarke."

Clarke shuffled in a little closer and began to lazily kiss down her forehead where the faint scar gleamed in the rising moon, moving diagonally at the bridge of her nose and then kissing either side of her mouth. She smirked and then kissed her on the lips, slow and sensually, a far cry from their last excursion in the shower.

As the heat began to build between them, Lexa tugged at her shirt, but Clarke swatted her hand away.

"Not so fast, missy. I think it's your turn to strip. Take it off, commander!" she said, with a snort of laughter.

Lexa stood up to do so, swaying slightly. She had purposely worn her least cumbersome attire for this express purpose (well that and for climbing). She started to pull her tunic out of her pants but Clarke stopped her again with a loud, grating noise.

"You're doing it wrong."

Lexa was unaware there was a wrong way to remove clothing.

"Do it sexily," Clarke added, laughing again.

She let her shirt go altogether and arched an eyebrow. "Sexily, Clarke?"

"It's called a striptease. Just you know, take it off slowly...and uh, dance around a little."

Perhaps the wine had affected Clarke more than herself? Was that even possible?

"I'm sorry, Clarke, I'm not sure I understand."

Clarke giggled, reached up for Lexa's hand and dragged her down. "Let me show you." She looked into Clarke's eyes to see herself moving in ways she had never moved before. Lexa blushed and gulped, unsure she could give Clarke what she wanted.

To distract for as long as possible she asked, "Why does my stomach look like that?"

"You're telling me you _don't_ have a six pack under there?" she grinned, placing a hand to her abdomen and moving it around in a large circle. "Feels like it to me."

In a bid to avoid attempting the unusual, and frankly, _unsettling_ movements, Lexa seized the opportunity to further distract Clarke by pulling up her own shirt and giving her her first look. Clarke stared at her firm - but hardly the picture of perfection - stomach like she was mesmerized. It was both amusing and annoying. She took Clarke's hand and placed it against her flesh, shivering when Clarke began to run her fingers up and down and all around.

"You like that do you?" Clarke said, after eyeing her response. "How about this?" she said, kissing downwards towards Lexa's navel. Lexa's breath hitched when Clarke flicked her tongue out, swirling around the inside of it. Clarke's hand slipped into her pants. "And what about-"

A faint whinny made its way all the way up there, the air much calmer than when they first arrived. They froze in place, each wondering if their ears (but really just Lexa's) had played tricks on them. Another whinny told Lexa that no, she had not been imagining things.

As much as it frustrated her to leave Clarke at such a moment, she would have to go investigate. Athena did not spook easily and was trained to run back to camp if she felt threatened. She only made noises when she was unable to get away.

Lexa kissed Clarke once and then pushed to her feet, the displeasure and rage steadily climbing.

Whatever was out there was in for a nasty surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh Oh.
> 
> Clarke and Lexa sitting in a tree...:p
> 
> I was this close to having Clarke blow a raspberry on her stomach. This close. | |
> 
> Oh yeah and #LoveWins. Congrats you guys. ;D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chaps pretty crazy. Enjoy!

 

For the first second, she's weightless, floating in mid air like she's in zero g. The night sky above seems to stretch on into infinity. It's almost peaceful.

The next second is sheer terror. Her stomach drops as the ground begins to careen faster and faster towards her, everything around a blur of black. She's positive she's about to die, to be smashed into a million bits of flesh and bone. She does the only thing she can think to do.

She screams.

The scream is silent, stuck in her throat by something inside, something in the back of her mind that tells her everything is going to be okay. At its ushering, she calms, and allows herself to be free and in the moment, and suddenly she's exhilarated, the farthest thing from terrified.

The rope secured around her ankles stops her head mere feet from the ground, her hair spilling forward and nearly touching. Before it can rebound her back into the sky like a sling shot, Lexa reclaims her body and grabs hold of the large uprooted limb popping out of the earth. Her body jolts at the strain, but only for a moment. In one fluid movement, Lexa reaches for her dagger and slashes at the rope just above her boots. She lands with a thud, quickly pivoting to slice through the knot keeping her bound.

"What a ride," says Clarke, grinning ear to ear.

Lexa smirks slightly and then becomes intensely focused. She scans the darkened area, searching for any signs of disturbance, searching for Athena. Clarke looks with her, her heart still hammering, palms still sweating.

All is quiet.

Another whinny assails their ears and they charge swiftly, yet silently in its direction. They take cover behind a tree when they hear voices nearby. Athena calls for help again and they see that she has been corralled into the centre of a circle of men.

Five reapers are jeering at her, taking swipes with their crudely cut weapons, while one of them holds her in place by the reins. Red spots her hair. Lexa is angry and scared but she pushes this aside in favour of courage and cunning. She knows she can't directly take on all of them at once and hope to survive. She intends to scatter them, grab Athena, and get out of there. She claps her hands loudly. The reapers turn at the sound and one of them moves in her general direction. When he is closer but still too far away to see her in the darkness, she dashes to another location and makes the noise again. She continues to do this with the hope that the reaper holding Athena captive will let go, joining the others in their search.

He doesn't.

She changes tactics and climbs into the nearest accessible tree, taking careful aim with her dagger, her only weapon. She strikes the uncooperative brute in the face and Athena takes off again, a trail of blood glistening in her wake. If she tries to call out to her, she'll definitely give away her position. Lexa tries to silently follow in the trees. Some rustling attracts their attention. They might be monsters, but they aren't completely witless. They know their attacker is in the trees. Lexa quickly reaches a dead end. She can't make it to the next tree. They find her, and they swarm, beginning to climb...

"Hey kiddo," says her father, as if from very far away, and underwater.

Clarke is torn between two worlds. She can't help Lexa, but she also doesn't want to leave her side. Not while this horror movie plays out in her head.

"We decided to spring you loose two days early. What do you say we go have some cake?"

As the reapers draw nearer, Lexa moves out onto a limb and jumps back the way she came. In her fear and haste, she just barely makes it, gloved fingers scrabbling for purchase.

"Clarke?"

She crashes to the ground, landing poorly. Her ankle is sprained. It doesn't matter, she pushes herself up and limps towards the dead reaper, snatching up his grotesque axe just in time to fend off the first of the blows.

"Clarke?"

"Not now, Dad!" Clarke snaps, zooming into focus on his bewildered face for the briefest of instances.

The axe is unfamiliar and too heavy for her to wield and she is just barely fending off the savage blows of the much larger, deranged warrior that _didn't_ climb the tree. Lexa is being pushed closer to the ground, closer to her dagger. If she tries to reach for it, she won't be able to support the weight of the axe, and her head will surely come off.

"You're upset with me for not visiting at all. I'm so sorry, sweetheart...but I'm here now...and I hope you'll forgive me."

The other reapers are dropping out of the tree and soon she will be surrounded just as surely as Athena was, no hope of escape. Not that it matters. Lexa's strength is almost at an end. Her assailant sneers at her, ready to deliver the final blow.

Her father sighs and says, "I see you've been keeping busy."

An arrow comes out of nowhere, piercing Lexa's would be killer in the back. She drops the axe and rolls out of the way before being crushed. The three remaining reapers yell in surprise and annoyance, not expecting a fair fight. Clarke nearly cheers but a small part of her brain reminds her of her dad's presence.

"These drawings are really good, Clarke. Is that us in the forest? Who's the woman? She's...interesting looking."

Panting, arms heavy with fatigue, Lexa reaches for her dagger. With a great effort she dislodges it from the dead mans skull and turns towards the others. Two are preoccupied with locating the archer. The third continues to come at her. She can barely hold her arms up, but she faces off with him all the same. A second arrow lodges into his throat right before he reaches her.

"Is there any particular reason why you didn't draw Mom, Clarke?"

The two remaining reapers roar, dashing away from her, intent on slaughtering the invisible killer. Stubbornly, Lexa limps after them.

"You know, don't you?" Another sigh. "I know it's hard for you to understand, Clarke, but she only did what she thought was right. Same as us."

By the time Lexa catches up to them, they are already dead, multiple arrows sticking out of one. An axe is embedded in a tree. Just off to the side of it stands her saviour. Anya smirks at her in an unamused way.

"You could have helped me sooner," says Lexa with a scowl.

"Serves you right for going off on your own," says Anya, voice cold with repressed fury. "Did _Clarke_ tell you to?"

Lexa clenches her jaw and fists. "I am still capable of making my own decisions."

"If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Clarke," says her father's distant and garbled voice, "you can forgive her too. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, _bad_ ones. Seems to me the only _possible_ reason you would have insisted on coming out here _alone_ was because you wanted to _fornicate_ with your imaginary lover. Everyone _heard_ you in the tent last week."

Lexa takes a step closer, bloody dagger in hand, teeth bared. "You forget your place, Anya, I am still the commander-"

" _I_ forget my place?" says Anya waspishly. "It is _you_ who have forgotten your place. You're supposed to be forming an alliance for the ages, Lexa, not out here touching yourself like a wanton boy."

Lexa is about to lunge at Anya when Clarke shouts, "Shut up!"

Both Lexa and her dad are startled by the sudden outburst. Lexa looks straight at her, blinking through some of her rage.

Anya follows her gaze and says, "I have indulged your little fantasy for far too long. As soon as we get back to camp, I'm telling the clan leaders that you can't be trusted to command us any longer. Your delusion has grown its roots too deeply."

Lexa's dagger hand twitches.

"Are you going to try to kill me now, commander?" Anya taunts. "Do you really think you can best your mentor?"

"There's only one way to find out!" snarls Lexa.

As much as Clarke doesn't want Anya to tell her people, she also doesn't want Lexa getting herself killed. She's in no fit state to fight her opponent. Before Lexa can attack, Clarke takes over her body. Or at least attempts to. They begin to thrash around, Lexa's limbs flailing every which way. Anya stiffens, not sure how to proceed.

"Clarke? Clarke?!" says her alarmed father. Strong arms encircle her but she continues to thrash against him. "Baby, what's going on with you?! Help! I need some help in here!"

As she fights Lexa for supremacy, something is thrown in the middle of her and Anya. A red smoke begins to pour forth, enveloping them in seconds.

"What's...happening?" mutters Anya before slumping forward, dropping her bow.

Clarke feels herself slipping into unconsciousness. Just before she does, Lexa shoves her out of her mind and firmly back into her own body. She looks around her cell - at her father's arms around her, at the guards standing by - and feels the connection snap. It's even more painful than the last time, and Clarke breaks down completely.

"Oh daddy!" she cries, turning around to throw herself into his arms, burrowing her face into his chest. "It's all my fault! It's all my fault!"

Her father continues to hold her until she quiets and then stares down at her, concerned, flabbergasted.

"Clarke," he says softly, wiping away her tears. "I think you should lie down."

She nods weakly, taking in a shuddering gasp of air. He leads her over to the bed and tucks her in. She turns towards the wall, curls up into a ball and cries some more, this time silently.

"Get Dr. Griffin in here immediately," orders the chancellor.

Boots hurriedly clank on metal, fainter by the second. Her father sits down beside her and begins to stroke her back. Normally this would soothe her, right now she is oblivious to its comfort.

_Lexa, Lexa_ , she calls to nothingness. _Lexa, please. Wake up_. _Lexa!_

"I never should have put you in here," says her father after a time, kissing the side of her hair. "The whole concept of Sky Box is ill conceived. No one, especially children, should be forced into solitary for months, if not years of their lives. It's not conducive to proper development. And it's never stopped the next generation of kids from committing the same crimes. I think maybe...maybe I'll try to do away with it, so that your-"

"What's happened, Jake?" says her mother, out of breath.

"I'm not really sure," he replies, standing up. "She had some sort of fit-"

"A fit?" says her mother's voice, sharply. "Describe it."

"She just started flailing around wildly. She was completely unresponsive to me."

Abby moves over to Clarke's side, taking her father's place. She feels her mother's hands on her forehead and shoulder. "Clarke, honey, I'm going to need to take a look at you now. Could you turn towards me so that I can do that?"

_Lexa, Lexa, Lexa, Lexa, Lexa..._

"Clarke? Can you hear me?"

Her mother gently turns her so that she is lying on her back. She shines a light in her eyes. Clarke blinks into it and sees her mothers face for the first time in two weeks. It's worried with a tight lipped smile. Their last encounter was less than cordial, and her mother looks the same now as she did then.

"Mom?" she croaks out in confusion. The next instant she is throwing herself into her lap. "Mom!"

Her mother strokes her hair and says, "Do you remember what happened, Clarke?"

"Someone took her. I just know it." She starts to cry into her mother's lap, like she is a child. "And they're going to do horrible things to her."

Her parents share a bewildered look. "Took who, Clarke? Who are you talking about?"

"I think I love her," she babbles. "I _know_ that I do. I think I've always known. I have to save her. I have to find a way."

"Clarke, you need to slow down, start from the beginning."

Clarke spent weeks deliberating the smartest way to broach this subject with her father. Everything was forgotten in that moment.

"No! There's no time for that!" She scrabbles upright and grasps her mom's collar, eyes manic. "You have to send me to Earth! Right now!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, yeah, that's going to go over well.
> 
> The whole assassin's creed jump thing is kind of based on a random grounder in season one. He had some sort of bungee set up. He dropped down from a tree, grabbed a delinquent, jumped back up, killed him and dropped the body beside Bellamy and company.
> 
> And one more note. I'm not going to be able to work on this for a few days, so the earliest update will probably be Friday or Saturday. Don't kill me! *runs away just in case*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 'wait'. Here's the next chap, as promised. :)

Her skin burned like it was on fire.

Every life extinguished by her own hand had been branded into her upper back. There were nearly one hundred of them.

This hurt more than all of them combined.

Whereas branding takes an instant, the agony the Mountain Men were currently inflicting upon her seemed to be never ending. Lexa willed herself not to scream as the coarse brush continued to rub her raw and bloody. The pain was almost as bad as the indignity of it all, to be treated like no more than an animal. Beyond her own turbulent mind, she could hear the anguish of others that were taken, Anya included. Lexa knew countless numbers of her people had endured this baffling torment. The idea made her just as enraged as when she found out Costia was dead. She would have gladly slit all of their throats, but her hands and feet were securely tied, and she was held in place by a metal binding around her throat.

To make matters worse, Clarke was here, bearing witness to her utter disgrace, feeling everything that she was feeling. This more than anything else was driving her insane. But Clarke would not leave her, no matter how much Lexa begged, no matter how much the others screamed. Clarke simply stood in the scalding water fall, amongst the remnants of the foul smelling, burning spray, holding her bound hands, giving her something else to focus on. More than once Clarke offered to take her place for some reprieve.

Lexa refused.

Finally, when she didn't think she could take anymore, the Mountain Men stopped scrubbing her and began patting her down with coarse towels. The pink skin was extremely sensitive and even their gentlest touch was eliciting winces. They stuck her with another needle and she instantly felt oblivion coming on. She sagged against Clarke, who was attempting to keep her upright and conscious. A few seconds later, the void claimed her mind for the second time that night, Clarke disappearing along with it.

* * *

An unknown length of time later she found herself in cramped quarters, braids undone, wearing next to nothing. The Mountain Men had dressed her in a strange white binding and underwear. Every part of her was sore and felt like open wounds, like she had just endured a thousand cuts. She shivered as her body became accustomed to the cold air here, thankful for the cool embrace on her flushed and tortured skin. As more of her faculties returned to her, she looked beside her to find one of her people staring back at her from their cage. The man was dressed in even less than her and was bruised and bandaged on his arms and legs. He looked about as bad as she felt. The same thing was found to her left, above, across...everywhere she could see were more of her people. And they were all silently watching her, expressions dull, yet hopeful, as if she had purposely gotten herself captured and would now suddenly display extraordinary feats of strength and free them all.

"Lexa," said Anya from above. Lexa craned her neck towards her mentor's voice. Anya's unreadable face was just in view.

They stared at one another for awhile, Lexa contemplating an apology. For a number of reasons she could not say anything to that effect, and Anya seemed to understand and accept it. Their feud was resolved for the moment. They would need to work together if they had any hope of escape. Lexa knew shaking the bars was pointless, and above all, it would only instill fear in her people. She had to remain strong and clear headed, though the drug they had given her was making this a difficult task to accomplish.

While she pondered her next move, Clarke appeared in the cage, blurred, unsteady, and occasionally flickering away altogether. She wondered if it was from her end, or Clarke's, or both.

Clarke sensed the unasked question. "I kind of freaked out when they started decontaminating you. My mom gave me something to calm down. I'm in my room right now, so I'm free to talk with you." Clarke gave her a worried once over, hands in fists. She seemed to be contemplating touching her. Lexa wasn't sure she could stand the contact right now. Clarke settled for nudging their fingers together once. Even this slight contact made her wince. Clarke's eyes became harder than Lexa had ever seen them before. "Those bastards are going to pay for this. I promise."

Lexa nodded ever so slightly, for the first time beginning to believe she may actually live to see the light of day again. Clarke flashed out of existence, only to reappear standing in front of her, examining the lock, frowning. "I can't really see it, it's just a block of metal. I need you to focus on one of them so that I can get a better look."

Even as the drug continued to dull her senses, Lexa did so, using the one directly across from her as a reference. "That's much better," said Clarke with a faint nod. "It's nothing fancy, just an old fashioned key type." She looked up at Lexa and smiled. "If you can find something to pick it with, you can free yourself."

Lexa raised her eyebrows.

"Anything a few inches in length and narrow enough to fit in the hole would do the trick. Basically, the bars of your cage would do."

Awkwardly Lexa shuffled around to survey and touch every portion of her tiny cage, top to bottom. There was nothing of the like around. She shook her head, stomach plummeting.

"You're sure there's no loose piece of wire you can break off and use?"

Lexa looked down in affirmation and Clarke bit her lip and was silent for almost a minute. Then she snapped her fingers. "Maybe someone else can find something for you to use?" Lexa gave her a perplexed look. "Is there some reason why you can't ask them?" Lexa just stared. "You want them to think you planned on this? I get that, I really do, Lexa, but you're _not_ getting out of here without a lock pick."

Lexa knew the truth of her words and resigned herself to losing a measure of respect from her people. When she had been bumbling around, they had started to mutter, the words almost intelligible now as the volume grew. However, when she moved to the door and stretched as tall as she could get, they abruptly stopped. It seemed like half of them shifted likewise, the anticipation palpable. "My fellow Trikru," she said in Trigedasleng, words somewhat slurred, "I require your assistance."

"Yes, commander?" said one of them.

"How can we be of service?" asked another.

"Feel around your cages. Try to locate a loose piece of metal."

A myriad of barely clad, smelly bodies turned in unison, caressing every part of their metal entrappings like an old lover. After several minutes of this, someone yelled in the distance.

"I've got something!"

"Well done," said Lexa loudly. "Can you break it off?"

"We will find out in a moment." There was an exorbitant amount of grunting and cursing and then, "I have it, commander! What do you want me to do with it?"

"Pass it along until it reaches me."

Thankfully all the cages were interconnected, so this was fairly straight forward, that is, until it reached the person _across_ from her.

The dark haired woman eyed her as she juggled the bit of wire in her hand, getting a feel for its weight. "Stand aside, commander, I will throw it to you."

Lexa pressed herself against the cool metal as much as possible, even though the pressure hurt greatly. There was only about half a foot of space for the woman to throw within. Lexa hoped she had accurate aim. She did not desire to be skewered, or even worse, for the piece of wire to miss its mark completely and clatter to the ground and out of reach.

The holding cells were deathly quiet as the woman prepared to release the wire. With a flick of the wrist she sent it flying through her own bars and Lexa's. It lodged in the wall behind her. She pivoted, and with one mighty yank pulled it out. Next, she looked to Clarke who was nodding encouragingly.

"Okay, now try to bend it a bit. It'll make the lock easier to access."

She instructed the person beside her to hold on to it as she attempted to wrench the small piece across a bar of her cage. She couldn't get enough leverage and was still too weak to manage any movement. Clarke told her to stop.

"Never mind that, Lexa, just grab hold of the lock and turn it sideways so you can see what you are doing. You want to stick it in there and kind of jostle it around."

Unsurprisingly, that vague direction did not work very well, and after minutes of failure, she stilled and looked to Clarke again, who was looking guilty.

"Not working, huh? I've only ever seen this in movies," she said, and Lexa grit her teeth together, "but I'm pretty sure it should work. There's at a least a dozen thieves in Sky Box right now. Let me try."

She closed her eyes and relaxed, allowing Clarke to flow through her and take over her body. Clarke gasped at the continuous and intense burning and then steadied herself and began twitching the wire around in much the same way she had been doing.

_Just another second,_ Clarke said over and over again.

A short while later, a door further down the line opened and two guards stepped through. One was quite fat and the other was quite fit. Both looked mean. Clarke immediately retrieved the pick and stuck it into the back of Lexa's bindings. The guards walked along the middle of the cages, some Trikru sticking their hands out and getting shocked for it with batons similar to those on The Ark. The trepidation mounted as they got closer and closer to them. The bearded men looked at Lexa and then set their gazes higher. The fit one pulled out a key and began unlocking the door to Anya's cage. Clarke could feel the fear as surely as if it were her own, as surely as if her father was about to be murdered before her eyes. She found it impossible to hold her tongue.

"Hey ugly!" she yelled, shaking the bars. "Hey down here!"

He hunched. "Enough of that monkey talk!" he ordered, with a glare. He zapped her and the pain of it on raw skin sent Clarke screaming.

_Clarke!_

Lexa reclaimed her body seconds later, panting as bright spots burst behind her eyelids. It was all she could do not to vomit on herself.

"I'm so sorry," said Clarke from outside the cage. "I couldn't help myself."

"I know you can't understand me, sweetheart," the fit guard grinned, "but there's more where that came from." He wagged the baton back and forth. "I'd be quiet if I were you."

Many of the Trikru had taken to rattling the bars in protest.

"What the hells gotten in to them?" said the other, fatter guard, as he indiscriminately jabbed at nearby hands with his shocking weapon. This only seemed to incense them further and they got even louder. "I've never seen them get so riled up before. They acted the same way when we brought these two _in_."

"Maybe they're special," said the fit man. Her assailant took a good hard look at her.

According to a piece of fabric on his chest, his name was Jefferson. She estimated his weight to be a hundred and eighty pounds. Judging by the definition of his arms through his clothing, most of that was muscle. He held himself in such a way that Lexa knew he was accustomed to fighting...and winning. In her current condition she had little hope of getting the upper hand. At least, not in a straight hand to hand fight.

All of a sudden Jefferson's skin tone paled and his hands began to tremble. "Shit, shit, shit."

"What?" said the fat one, squatting down beside him.

His name was Horner.

Jefferson ran a shaky hand through his mostly shaved off hair. "She wasn't wearing her usual get up. I should have seen it earlier." He hit the floor with a weighty fist. "Fuck!"

"What?!" said Horner, more intensely. "What's wrong, Paul?"

"This is their _commander_ ," he hissed. "The leader of the savages."

"They're not savages!" yelled Clarke. " _You're_ the savages!"

Horner released a string of exotic swear words, most of which Lexa was unfamiliar with.

"Well, that was rude," intoned Clarke, making a disgusted face.

" _Now_ what do we do?" said Horner, voice tremulous.

"I don't know," said Jefferson. "But we have to do something, and _soon_ , or we'll both lose our jobs. And I'm _not_ going back to fucking kitchen duty. It's the most boring thing ever."

They both looked to Lexa, a certain glint in their eyes that told her she was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm evil. I admit it.


	10. Chapter 10

"Talk to me," said Abby as she rushed into the observation room after a three hour surgery.

"Her vital signs are spiking again," said Jackson, one of her assistants. "And her brain waves are all over the place." He pointed to the screen, an MRI of her daughter's brain function on display. Most of it was flashing orange and yellow, except for a few miniscule pinpoints, barely perceptible, which were flashing red, indicating extreme activity. "These same little areas always go into overdrive."

Abby ran her hands across her face once. They had been at this for hours. And they were still no closer to understanding what was going on. Abby looked at the monitor showing Clarke inside the fMRI machine. Even with the sound turned off, she could see that Clarke was babbling excitedly to herself again in a nonsense language. It physically hurt to watch her daughter unravel and being powerless to stop it. They had hundreds of years of medical knowledge at their disposal and it was all useless. Her symptoms were of the feverish kind, but she was not feverish. Her blood toxicology had come back normal, she had not ingested any poison. She was not suffering from oxygen deprivation either - unlikely as that may be - which could also elicit hallucinations and incoherent speech.

The one good thing about all of this was that she was certain her daughter did not have a massive tumour and didn't need to immediately have open brain surgery. Being the primary health care provider on The Ark, Abby knew a little bit about everything out of necessity. Of course, being stretched so thin in every direction meant she wasn't an expert in any given field. Therefore, she was far from confident in her ability to perform in such delicate capacities, always fearful she would inadvertently lobotomize someone. Thankfully she rarely had to engage in those intricacies, as they had drugs that could completely dissolve certain kinds of smaller growths in and around the brain without being invasive at all.

Exhausted, Abby nonetheless studied the fMRI as intensely as she could, hoping for an answer to magically appear before her eyes. The areas with the most activity were all associated with sense perception, so she had little doubt that Clarke fully believed everything she was experiencing and witnessing, but that didn't mean any of it was real, as Clarke adamantly insisted. She stared until she felt a tension headache coming on and then backed off, hopefully avoiding a migraine.

Abby looked to the image of her restrained daughter again and wondered what fantasies were taking place in her mind at this very moment...

* * *

The guards had given Lexa a sinister look that Clarke really didn't care for. Her insides squirmed as she imagined all of the terrible things they might do to her. There seemed to be no end to the horrors tonight - this her birthday - the unfavourable kind of 'unforgettable'.

Lexa was hurting and was in no condition to fight both of them at once. Clarke was determined to help in any way she could, but she had little fighting experience and was herself somewhat out of it thanks to her mom.

While the guards deliberated what to do with the commander, Clarke did likewise.

"We've got to get you out of here," she said hurriedly, hands on cold bars. "And fast."

Lexa dipped her head slightly. This one sided verbal communication was really starting to get on her nerves. Clarke had said screw it and didn't care who heard her, Lexa was unwilling to expose herself in such a way to her people, at least, not yet.

Since the guards believed Lexa didn't understand them, they were blatantly discussing their plans right in front of her. On the one hand it prepared them for what was coming next, on the other, it prevented Lexa from attempting to pick the lock again.

"Just slit her throat and drop her down the chute and be done with it," said Horner, eyeing somewhere off to the side that Clarke couldn't see. When she moved away from Lexa to get a better vantage point, all she saw was black. "The reapers will get rid of the evidence soon enough."

"That's no good," said Jefferson, shaking his head, glancing towards Lexa. "We've already logged her in. Someone would quickly notice if a recent admittance suddenly went missing. Unwanted questions are the last thing we need."

"We just need to find a replacement savage that matches her description," insisted Horner, gesturing to the rows and rows of cages. "Then we can swap them, get rid of the commander, and no one will ever be the wiser."

"And that makes sense, _how_ , Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "There will just be another empty cage unaccounted for."

"Not if we say the old one was drained dry."

_Drained dry_? thought Clarke, disgustedly. They really were the savages here.

"And how will we explain the new one clearly being bled already?"

"By bleeding her _before_ we get rid of her, that's how," said Horner, staring at Lexa with malcontent.

As Jefferson debated this plan, Clarke turned to Lexa and said, "We need some sort of distraction so that I can pick the lock for you."

Apparently the other grounders were of a like mind for they began to bang on the bars again, creating an unholy uproar. Horner and Jefferson jumped into action, jabbing their batons at everyone in sight, hollering for silence.

Lexa allowed Clarke to slip into her skin and she willed herself to get this right as quickly as possible. For once her wish was granted and the lock popped out. She was about to remove it from the latch when the side door opened once more and a dark haired woman in a lab coat appeared. She surveyed the chaos silently for a bit before approaching.

"I take it this is why my patient hasn't received her treatment yet."

The guards and grounders alike stilled their banging at her first utterance. Everyone's eyes were on her and it was suddenly deathly quiet. Clarke couldn't decide whether or not to lock Lexa in fully. The fat one, Horner instinctively placed himself in front of Lexa and Anya's cages in an effort to keep them from view. Both guards seemed nervous. Clarke liked that.

"Yeah, they've been giving us a lot of trouble tonight, Dr. Tsing," said Horner.

Jefferson looked like he wanted to smack him upside the head, a look that vanished before the doctor noticed. She was a very unreadable woman, kind of like Lexa at times, except where Lexa's stony expressions were just a front necessary to contain emotions, Clarke would bet her life that this doctor was the same on the inside as she appeared on the outside. There was just something about her that was unsettling, like she would kill her own mother if it meant getting something she wanted.

"I see," was all Tsing said. She stared at the pair of them for several tension filled moments more before continuing with, "Well, they seem to be under control now."

Jefferson nodded and moved away from Lexa's position and went to open the cage of the woman who had given the pick to Lexa.

"I require someone fresher," said Tsing callously. "I believe I already told you two this."

"Right," said Jefferson, heading further down the line.

"Aren't you going to help him?" she said to Horner. Horner hesitated a second too long and Tsing cocked an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

"Nothing, doc, nothing at all," he replied as he went to join Jefferson.

Tsing's eyes immediately snapped in her direction. When they locked, Clarke held her breath, feeling like the doctor could sense that she wasn't who she appeared to be. The woman's eyes widened when she saw the lock was not locked.

"Guards!" she exclaimed, backing away into waiting hands.

"Lexa, go," whispered Clarke.

In the same instant the grounders clutched at the doctor, Lexa burst out of her cage. Dr. Tsing screamed, pulling herself away from their weakened embraces just so that Lexa could grab her from behind.

Jefferson and Horner watched in horror as Lexa held a wire point to her throat, the flesh indented, ready to be pierced at the slightest provocation. The guards simply stood there as Lexa backed away from them and towards the exit.

"What are you waiting for?!" demanded Tsing. "Do something! Or call for backup!"

Horner and Jefferson looked to each other, non reacting. Then Jefferson stepped closer to her and Lexa pressed the edge further into Tsing's neck, drawing blood.

Horner sighed and made the executive decision to speak into the walkie talkie attached to his vest, calling for aid. Jefferson shoved him into the cages afterwards and then set his sights back on Lexa, gun at his side, looking like he was out for blood. He took two steps closer to Lexa resulting in more force applied.

"Stop you idiot!" shouted Tsing, wincing as the crimson liquid trailed down her collar.

Lexa and her hostage made their way past an upside down hanging grounder with tubes sticking out of him, leading into a room unseen. He wasn't moving at all, and Clarke thought he must be dead. The bile rose in her throat. How many of Lexa's people had been subjected to this despicable treatment? How many times were they bled before they expired and were tossed away like so much trash? There was no place for them to relieve themselves in their cages. Were they forced to soil themselves, or did someone actually allow them a bathroom break every day? Clarke had read of prisoners in dungeons treated better than this.

Out of the corner of Lexa's eye she could make out the location of the chute Horner had alluded to before. It was behind a heavy rust coloured door labelled _End Containment Area_.

Clarke knew there was no way Lexa was getting out of The Mountain before the backup swarmed her. They inched closer towards the door and Lexa reached back to open it. She struggled with the weight until it finally started to give way. But too slowly.

The entrance to the holding cells slammed open and five more guards poured into the room, guns at the ready. Clarke was strongly reminded of the time Jaha's goons had come to take her father away the second time.

Her anxiety crescendoed.

Lexa heaved the containment door just enough to slip inside...with the doctor still in her deadly embrace. Clarke understood that she planned on using the indignant woman as a shield against the reapers. Now all they had to do was locate a way to open the trap door beneath their feet. Just outside there had been a button, but in here, there was nothing.

_That was probably the point_ , thought Clarke dismally, _a safeguard for preventing prisoners from escaping, or guards from accidentally dropping themselves while disposing of a body_.

Then a metal plate locked in front of the closed door and a loud warning sound was heard, drowning out the yells of the men on the other side.

"Get ready," said Clarke. "This might hurt."

Lexa braced herself for the fall.

The warning sound stopped and Clarke expected Lexa and the doctor to be dropped. Instead, the metal plate retracted and the heavy door swung wide.

On the other side stood a single guard, gun trained on Lexa's head. He was taller than all three women, with short brown hair and a pastier complexion than anyone else they had come across so far, which was saying something. His name was Emerson, and Clarke was unnerved by the air of confidence exuding from him, like he was positive he had won already. Even Dr. Tsing agreed and had stopped hollering for help.

His eyes flickered to the trail of blood on her neck before finding their way back to Lexa's.

"You're going to let her go now," he said evenly, finger twitching on the trigger. "Or you're going to die. I don't miss."

Lexa said nothing, only pressed the wire into Tsings neck some more. Clarke was frantic, and had no idea how to get Lexa out of this impossible situation. Even if she made Lexa do as he said, he'd probably just shoot her anyway. They were well and truly screwed.

Emerson adjusted his aim slightly. "This is your last chance. Do as I say and I won't kill you."

All the talk of getting rid of Lexa crashed against her in waves. A desperate idea instantly formed. Desperate was better than nothing at all.

"Tell him you're the commander," said Clarke breathlessly, heart about to explode.

"Okay, then," said Emerson with a tiny smirk, "I guess it's bye bye savage."

"You aren't going to use that vile device on me, mountain man," said Lexa, face a mask.

Clarke was a little surprised to note he wasn't surprised that she could speak English. Then again, he had spoken to her in such a way as to indicate he knew she could understand him. Perhaps only higher ranking guards were allowed to know this 'secret'.

"Oh really?" responded Emerson, the smirk more pronounced. "And why not?"

"Because your leader would not be pleased by my demise."

Emerson chuckled at that. "I don't see why he'd care about another savage's death. It's not like you're-" His eyes widened, all trace of amusement gone. "Damn it all to hell!"

"What is it?" snapped Tsing. "What's wrong?"

Emerson grit his teeth. "This is the commander."

"So what?! She's threatening my life! Kill her now!"

"I can't!" he yelled back in frustration. "We have strict orders to leave her alone. Whatever moron brought her in here is going to pay dearly!" Emerson surveyed her silently for a time before reaching for his walkie talkie. "Tell the President that we have a situation. Some imbecile brought the commander in here. She's taken Dr. Tsing hostage. Further instruction is required."

A couple of stifling minutes later and the garbled response was, "Stand down."

"Understood." He glared at Lexa a second longer before lowering his weapon.

"What are you doing?!" demanded Tsing. "She's going to kill me now!"

"No, she isn't," he said calmly. The faint smirk returned. "I can't hurt _her_ but there's nothing stopping me from hurting _them_ in front of her."

Clarke could feel the surge of fear and rage beyond Lexa's stoic facade.

"You wouldn't like that would you now, commander?" he taunted.

She clenched her jaw and flared her nostrils.

"That's what I thought," he said smugly. He arched an eyebrow. " _Well_?"

Lexa shoved the doctor away from her and dropped the blood tipped wire piece. Tsing staggered out of the containment room, clutching at her neck. Emerson stepped aside and gestured for Lexa to follow.

Lexa looked to Clarke once, dipped her head and exited the almost escape route.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disaster averted, for now. ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clarke and Lexa go clothes shopping...oh and some other stuff happens too.

Five minutes later a trunk was being wheeled down the long grey corridor to just outside of the harvesting chamber. Lexa prepared herself for what might lay within. A guard, Lovejoy, opened it for her while five others stood watch around her, shocking clubs at the ready should she attempt anything untoward. Emerson was somewhere else with her two would be killers, no doubt punishing them for their blunder.

Inside was an assortment of clothing...colourful, unusual clothing. There was a silver butterfly on the back of one of the shirts that was sparkling.

"Take your pick," said Lovejoy.

Lexa viewed the garments in confusion and disgust. Clarke was attempting not to grin.

"The President wishes to speak with you. He insisted on you being properly clothed."

She refused to be humiliated even more than she already was.

"Then bring me my own clothing," she stated authoritatively in her white undergarments.

"You can't wear your clothing in here," he replied, as if she were a slow child. "It's contaminated."

"I refuse to wear any of these garments."

_Especially that salmon coloured thing with feathers sticking out of it._

"That's called a sweater, Lexa," said Clarke in slight amusement. "And those aren't feathers, they're just some synthetic fabric."

Lovejoy got a bit petulant. "Look here, sunshine, either pick something out yourself or we'll pick something _for_ you. Makes no difference to me." His grip tightened on his club. "One way or another you _will_ get dressed."

As her posture stiffened, Clarke placed a hand on her forearm. "Please just get dressed, Lexa. This is one power play you aren't going to outmanoeuvre. And there's no sense in getting needlessly hurt."

Grumbling, Lexa assented to her annoying companions plea.

"Thank you, Lexa," she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, the most recent in a series of them after her near death experience. Clarke eyed the clothing. "Not all of it's terrible. I might actually be able to put together something that looks half way decent. Let's see here," she said, trailing her fingers along the row of shirts. She stopped at a high collared, long sleeved green one. "I think this one would look good on you. It matches your eyes."

Lexa reached for it, not particularly caring at this point what Clarke chose for her to wear. At the very least, it looked like it would provide some warmth against this constant chill that pervaded the mountain.

The front had what Clarke referred to as buttons, and she fumbled with doing up the unfamiliar fastening, which garnered a snicker from one of the guards. Before Lexa could gut him, Clarke asked to take over and Lexa let her do up the buttons. Then, because it was easier, she let Clarke stay in her body as she surveyed the various pants, quickly darting a hand out for a light brown pair. With those zipped up, all that remained was the footwear. Even though there were only three pairs of boots to choose from, Clarke apparently couldn't make up her mind. She was taking too long to decide and Lovejoy lost his patience. He grabbed the ugly mauve ones and thrust them into her hands.

Clarke put them on, not liking the mismatched outfit, but afraid to object and get Lexa shocked again. She left Lexa's skin and made a face at the result of her efforts.

Lexa looked at herself in the mirror. The shirt was too baggy in the torso and puffed out at indiscriminate spots. The pants were too tight and were simultaneously stinging her sore flesh and making her feel like she wouldn't be able to move at all – a high kick was out of the question. The boots were the only part of her outfit that fit properly and therefore Lexa liked them the best.

Now that this tiresome process was completed, the trunk was promptly closed, and the guards began leading her down the corridor and around a bend. A short distance away resided a larger metal cage than the one she had been imprisoned in. She eyed it warily as one of them swiped a piece of white material against a rectangular device that lit green, and herded her in.

"It's called an elevator," said Clarke, right beside her. "Nothing to be concerned about."

Lovejoy pressed a button that said 7 and the elevator jerked once before ascending five levels. While they rose, Clarke squeezed her hand. "Whatever happens next, I'm here for you."

Lexa squeezed back and a few seconds later, the doors parted and a guard was pushing her out. They walked past many doors with small square viewing portals. The alcoves were all darkened and she couldn't get a very good look inside of any of them. But one in particular caught her interest. Flashing lights came from within and she momentarily glimpsed an image of her own camp on a large screen. The image was recent and she understood it to be taken not too long before she left camp and ended up here. She wondered how her scouts failed to notice a spy amongst their midst.

"They probably have telescopic lenses," said Clarke, looking where she was looking and surmising her train of thought. "They wouldn't have had to get anywhere near your camp to take that photograph."

When they arrived outside of a dimly lit glass enclosure, Emerson came over and addressed her.

"If you so much as look at him the wrong way, I will take you down."

Lexa said nothing and her expression conveyed nothing either. Emerson glowered at her before pushing open the door with the unfamiliar bird etched in.

"Bald Eagle," said Clarke. "Used to be the symbol of America."

He followed directly behind her, everyone else remained just outside in full view of the goings on within.

The man in question stood with his back facing her, hands clasped. Just from those wrinkled fingers, she could tell he was an elder. The white hair made it even more obvious. Surviving to his advanced age might have impressed her slightly if the circumstances had been vastly different.

"That will be all," said the man. His voice had a curious quality to it that she wasn't sure how to describe. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, just different.

"But sir," said Emerson aghast, eyeing the various swords on display, "she might try to kill you."

"If she does, she's not the person I believe her to be, and I deserve to die." Clarke and Lexa shared a look. "Once a leader loses their edge, it's time for new meat." He turned to face Lexa, eyes flickering over her outfit for the briefest of instances before returning to meet hers. He smiled slightly. "Wouldn't you agree, commander?"

Lexa just looked at him, which seemed to make him smile more. He held out a hand, splotches of colour here and there.

"Paint," said Clarke. She looked to the multitude of paintbrushes on the edge of his desk. Off to the side was an easel, canvas half finished, depicting a lush landscape. Lexa had enjoyed watching Clarke create similar images in her cell. She felt none of that admiration here. "He's an artist."

"Dante Wallace," said the old man in the old suit.

She didn't take his hand. Her eyes never truly left his.

Dante's smile remained as he retracted it. He gestured to the striped pink and purple chair beside her. Yet another ridiculous possession of the Maunon. She would have never imagined one of her most hated foes to be so preposterous. Her contempt grew further.

"Sofa," muttered Clarke. "Looks kind of comfy."

"Please, have a seat."

When she deigned to accept his offer, he put his hands behind his back and likewise continued to stand. Lexa understood the importance of maintaining height dominance over everyone in the room. If he sat down and she didn't then he would lose some of his power.

They stood there sizing each other up for many moments, waiting for the other to break the silence. Lexa would only speak to this man if absolutely necessary. So far there was no cause for speech.

A clock on the wall behind him began to chime indicating it was midnight. Its brass pendulum swung back and forth and might have distracted her if she wasn't so focused on the President.

After the clanging came to an end he said, "I knew you were young, but I didn't realize just _how_ young. You can't be more than twenty, if that." She neither confirmed nor denied this. "I didn't take up my father's mantle until I was almost twice that age, and I _still_ felt unprepared for the burdens of leadership. I can only imagine how you must have coped in your first years as commander."

"He's trying to find common ground," Clarke said needlessly, absentmindedly poking a finger at the paintbrushes.

"Being a leader is no easy task. It requires constant vigilance, and when that fails, the ability to sacrifice, two qualities that you seem to have always possessed. We as leaders are forced to make choices everyday, choices that are not always savoury to us, but necessary all the same. You understand the necessity of compromising for the greater good. Otherwise you would never have attempted to continue trying to make an alliance with those that hurt you."

He gave her a compassionate smile. Lexa bristled at the mention of Costia, a barely covered wound threatening to rip apart all over again. If not for Clarke's calming presence she may even have lashed out at him with the sword on display, bringing an abrupt end to him, as well as herself.

"During my reign I've attempted to maintain the status quo between your people and mine, doing my best not to intrude more than was necessary. I've watched you from afar these past four years, commander, and I quickly came to realize that you were different than the others. At least, in the beginning."

He took something out of the folder on his desk and handed it to her. Lexa didn't take it, so Dante flipped it over in front of her.

"Lexa, just look," said Clarke. "I want to see."

She glanced down briefly to find a photograph of herself playing 'war' with some children. She remembered the autumn day, nearly three years ago, when she was just seventeen and still figuring out what kind of leader she wanted to be. That was one of the last times she had been truly happy, before her grand idea of uniting the clans came to fruition. From then on it had been battle after battle and more death than she had ever wanted to be responsible for. Only the knowledge that their spirits would be born anew helped to quench her guilt.

"I never expected we would meet, or have the opportunity to talk alone like this, leader to leader."

Clarke snorted slightly at that.

"Now that chance has thrown you into my midst, I believe it would be irresponsible not to try to come to terms."

Indifferently Lexa said, "If you believe I will ever make a deal with the man who turns our men into monsters, who then uses the monstrosities to abduct my people for further horrors, you are sadly mistaken."

"I've had to sacrifice my morals for my people, it's true," he said quietly, glancing away. "I've had to sanction things I never would have believed myself capable of allowing. The reapers were a necessary evil, as were the abductions."

"In what possible world does that make sense!" yelled Clarke. "You're despicable!"

In barely suppressed rage, "You drain the blood from my people's bones until they are no more and then dispose of them like refuse." She pounded his desk, rattling the paintbrushes in their jars. "As nothing more than fodder for your monsters!"

Dante gave her a pained look as several guards burst into the office, ready to intervene. The President waved them off.

"I understand your anger and outrage. I would be outraged myself if our positions were reversed. We do what we must to survive." He hesitated a moment, licking his weathered lips. "The truth is, we need your blood for this purpose. Our immune systems have grown weak over the decades, an unfortunate byproduct of a closed off gene pool...and an unfortunate incident."

"So rather than ask for help, you guys decided to start grabbing innocent people to drain dry. Really brilliant idea there," said Clarke scathingly.

"Could you not have approached us in the beginning and asked for our assistance?" said Lexa, knowing the answer even as she said this. The Trikru would have never helped those that were too weak to survive on their own.

Dante bowed his head. "Fifty-five years ago my father opened the door thinking it was safe. He had seen one of your people. They killed our envoy before two words were spoken."

Lexa wasn't surprised. They were trained from an early age to be wary of all outsiders.

"Within a week, over fifty of our people had perished from radiation exposure, including my mother and sister."

If he was expecting compassion or pity from her, he would be waiting for eternity.

"More followed in the weeks to come. Desperate for a solution, we abducted one of your people, to try and see what made them different from us. They tested your blood and found the white blood count to be much higher than our own. Our researcher at the time suggested a transfusion. They thought perhaps our immune systems would be boosted. They were right. The ailing recipient rebounded and survived the radiation exposure." He paused before adding, "I was seven."

Clarke tried to catch her eye but she ignored her. "Once you had your cure, you continued to drain us."

Dante trailed a hand along his desk. "Unfortunately, the transfusions effects were only temporary and many began to show the symptoms of their exposure again. You have to understand, our numbers had never been very high to begin with, and they had plummeted after the doors were opened. We had no choice but to continue taking your people."

"You had a choice," said Lexa sternly. "You should have suffered the consequences of your actions and perished. You should have allowed mother nature to run her course."

Dante eyed her thoughtfully before smiling. "Ah, so that _is_ why your people toss out the afflicted. I thought so."

Lexa stiffened at that, feeling uncomfortably aware of Clarke's puzzled gaze on her.

"What's he talking about, Lexa?"

She clenched her jaw. "Do not speak of things you do not understand."

"Then explain it to me," he said pleasantly. "Why do mothers get rid of their newborn babies? Why do they leave them out in the forest to die?"

Lexa could feel the shock and disgust rolling off of Clarke in waves. She balled her hands into fists.

"Mutated individuals would have tainted the bloodlines," suggested Dante. "Your people understand the importance of keeping them clean, to ensure the survival and health of future generations." He levelled her with an ingratiating smile that she loathed. "So you see, commander, you and I are not all that different. We both allow sacrifice and things that make our stomachs turn. For the greater good."

Lexa's eyes flashed dangerously. "And what was the greater good in obliterating one of our encampments thirty-three years ago?"

His smile disappeared and a humourless one of her own appeared.

"Your people were massing, much as they are now. My father thought it prudent to dissuade your warriors from attacking us."

"We both know they couldn't have harmed you. Not while you were safe behind these walls. You killed hundreds of us needlessly. Are you preparing to do the same? Will you fire upon my warriors because you are afraid of answering for all of your sins?"

Dante sighed, rubbing at his temple. "I didn't agree with his decision then, and I still don't believe the missiles should be used except as a last resort. Will you hammer away at the mountain until you find a way in? Will you give me no choice but to use them again?"

"You have caused untold suffering of thousands of my people. I cannot let that stand." Her face hardened into stone as she solemnly intoned the war cry of her people. "Blood must have blood."

Dante looked at her gravely, his advanced age etched in every line of his face. "If I gave you back all of your people right now, would you agree to come to terms without further bloodshed?"

Lexa hadn't been expecting that and was momentarily shocked into silence. The idea of rescuing Anya was certainly an enticing one, even if she was a stubborn lummox intent on outing Clarke.

"How can you do such a thing without ensuring your own demise?" she asked suspiciously.

"We would require weekly blood donations from your people." She was about to interject but he raised a hand to silence her, something that she wasn't accustomed to and which made her angry. "We would set up a station _outside_ of the mountain and your warriors would give us what we needed that way. No more reapers. No more abductions. No more cages."

"So you will continue to bleed my people and suffer none of the consequences," scoffed Lexa.

"We're doomed to a dismal life within these concrete walls. Isn't that punishment enough?"

"Maybe," piped up Clarke. Despite being connected on an intimate level, Lexa had almost forgotten she was there, so focused on her enemy had she been. "Until a month ago, I never thought I'd see the ground or leave the confines of these walls. Imagine never getting to feel the sun on your face or breathing in fresh air. My people may get to do just that one day, theirs never will. They'll continue to degrade until they all die out. I'm not saying their fate erases every terrible thing they've done to survive, but it is food for thought."

For many minutes she deliberated over her next move. When she was sure of her choice, she looked Dante in the eye. "I will agree to your terms on one condition."

"Name it."

Clarke stared at her as she said, "When the Sky People come down, you will leave them alone...or you will all die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa dressing up kind of reminded me of Helena from OB this season. Am I right? Or am I right?
> 
> So ADC has been officially confirmed for next season! And Lexa's going to play a bigger role!
> 
> Lol, I just realized that 'Paint, he's an artist' is kind of an unintentional joke. #AfterEverAfter


	12. Chapter 12

Dante was reclining in his chair sipping at a bourbon when his son barged into his office.

"Are you insane?!" Cage howled in absolute fury. "Why would you do this?! We had a perfect set up!"

Dante had been expecting something like this. Some of the guards tended to have loose lips. Still, his son's choice of words served to irritate him.

"Perfect?" he replied evenly, staring Cage down. He put his drink aside and stood up, walking over to him. "Have you fallen so far from grace that you can no longer tell right from wrong? Your own mother, God rest her soul, was so disgusted by our practices that she refused treatment until it finally killed her."

For a split second Cage seemed to be abashed. Then he exploded insolently, in a way that he used to do as a child. "I don't care what she thought about it! She shouldn't have been so stubborn and _stupid_!"

Dante's own temper finally got the better of him. He clenched his bandaged fist. Besides signing a contract, the commander had also insisted on completing their deal through a blood oath. It had taken quite a bit of reassurance from him before the guards stood down and allowed her to handle his great-great-great-grandfather's sword. Dante had likewise cut her palm and then they had held bare forearms, soft and supple skin against thin and leathery. Despite the unusual circumstances, the young woman's touch had reminded him of his late wife's.

"How dare you disrespect her! I ought to give you a good whooping boy!"

Cage laughed at that in mocking tones. "I'd like to see you try, _old_ _man_. I'm not a boy any more!" As if to prove this point, he puffed out his chest in defiance.

They faced off again, Dante itching to smack him upside the head.

"That's what I thought," smirked Cage. "You don't have the stones to-"

Dante reached for the recently cleaned sword and directed it towards his spoiled brat of a son. "Apologize for sullying her memory, or get out of my sight!" he said darkly.

Cage didn't move, nor did he seem particularly afraid. They both knew he wasn't going to harm his only heir, though Dante often thought someone else would be better suited for leading their people. Cage was prone to flights of fancy and erratic behaviour, with little thought to consequences. He supposed he only had himself to blame. He had indulged him far too much after the death of their first born and only given him occasional spankings, when he really should have had daily ones.

Emerson came in then, "Everything okay, sir?" he asked, fingering his electric baton.

Cage smirked further and it was all Dante could do not to slice it off his face.

He lowered the sword and placed it reverently back on its stand. "Everything's fine."

It was several moments before he began to calm his laboured breathing, as if he had just run a marathon. Dante was barely under control when his son said his next infuriating thing.

"I'm not going to let you ruin everything we've accomplished here. I'm going to find a way to stop this deal," Cage informed him smugly.

"I would advise against that," he said in repressed rage and frustration.

"Oh and what are you going to do about it _old man_?"

Emerson was still in the room. Dante looked to him. "Please escort my son to solitary. He needs some time to calm his mind."

_We both do._

They exchanged looks and for a second Dante was fearful Emerson wouldn't obey him. Dante knew that they were close both on _and_ off the clock.

"Yes, Mr. President."

Emerson grabbed him by the arm. "I'll never forgive you for this!" snarled Cage at both of them. "Never!"

Dante watched them leave. He could only imagine what his son would have said if he had known the full truth of the deal. Everyone here knew their space history, knew of the existence of the space stations. But no one knew for certain whether any of their inhabitants were still alive. Communication had been cut off within a week of the first bombings and had never been reestablished.

_Survivors in space._

Knowing that others might be out there had excited him for a time when he was much younger, until he realized the 'sky people' were just as trapped as they were, perhaps even more so. The idea that they might come to the ground in his lifetime had briefly reignited that boyish excitement, until he realized they would most likely all die horrific deaths upon their first breaths of toxic air. If he had to speculate as to why they would risk such a thing, he could only think of one reason : catastrophic failure. Every day he worried about their own worn out containment system utterly failing, killing them all in seconds.

As to how the commander knew about the coming together of the space stations, to form the aptly named 'Ark', or more to the point, their existence in the first place, he couldn't say, and he didn't pry. He had just wanted to seal the deal before she changed her mind, before he would be forced to give back what was left of his soul. Most in the mountain didn't live past sixty, there was only so much the outsiders blood could do for them. Just like this bunker, he was already living on borrowed time. He didn't want to leave this world without attempting to repent of his many sins.

Dante sat back down. He picked up the framed photograph of his late wife, Lara, touching her glassed face softly. He smiled fondly, hoping she would finally have cause to forgive him when they next met in heaven.

He had a funny feeling it would be soon.

* * *

The trek through the mines was not an enjoyable one. The five guards from earlier were leading the way out with 'flashlights'. She supported one of the bled who could barely keep to her feet. Anya did the same. Within minutes they came across their first reapers. Murmurs of dismay from the bled travelled along the stone walls. Clarke clutched at her arm in fear. Lexa wished she had something to protect her people with but she had lost her dagger in the forest before being captured.

One of the guards pulled out a cylindrical device and activated it. A piercing tone dropped the reapers to their knees, hands over ears, incapacitating them. Without so much as an eye blink, they put a bullet in each of their brains, flashes of light in the darkness. Though necessary, it still hurt her heart a bit to see the life so suddenly extinguished from those that were once her people.

Afterwards Clarke said shakily, "That was intense. You really could've used one of those things earlier tonight." Silence for a time except for the echo of their footfalls on the rusted tracks. "Hey, Lexa, do you think maybe there's a way to save them?"

_Save them? If only, Clarke, if only. Our healers have tried many times. There is no way._

"I know it's not very likely, but there might be a way. My mom might know a way to turn them back. I just think you could try one more time, if only for their families."

She heard the rumbling of feet and knew more reapers would soon be upon them. She had to make her decision fast. As the reapers approached and the mountain men subdued them, Lexa spoke.

"Do not kill them."

Everyone in the vicinity turned to look at her like she was mad, especially Anya. Only Clarke approved.

"We have strict orders to eradicate the reaper threat," said Lovejoy in confusion. The man in the strange beige suit gestured down the darkened and winding cart tracks. "And we're supposed to lead you out of here safely."

She watched one of the reapers flail around on the tracks, eyes bloodshot, reaching feebly for her leg. He was pitiful. And yet, he had probably killed and eaten a number of her people. As always, the bile rose in her throat at the memory of coming across them once during feeding time.

"They cannot hurt us in their current state," she said, all eyes on her still. "Leave them be."

"We can't do that," said Lovejoy in his dour mood. "The President's orders were very clear. We can't go against them."

Lexa clenched her jaw. "Fine. Kill these ones," she said, gesturing to the most hideously mutilated and far gone ones, "but tie that one up and bring him with us."

The guards exchanged a look. None moved to complete her command. Her anger began to rise at being ignored.

"Ask to speak with Dante," said Clarke. "Maybe you can get him to change his orders."

Lexa did so and Lovejoy begrudgingly handed over his walkie talkie. The Trikru watched her warily as she touched 'forbidden' technology.

"What's happened now?" said Dante with a sigh.

"This is the commander." She spoke louder than usual because of the piercing tone still in effect.

There was a creaking of a chair and then, "Commander?"

"Order your men to stand down. I do not wish for them to kill the reapers."

There was a lengthy pause. "I don't understand."

"Your Dr. Tsing," she continued, "does she know anything about their creation?"

"Yes," came the hesitant response. "Why do you ask?"

"Would she be able to turn them back into men?"

The Trikru around her began to mutter. Anya stared at her in a harder than usual fashion.

"She's assured me that that's not possible. The effects are permanent."

"And you trust her completely?"

Another lengthy pause. Another sigh. "I'll go speak with her again." Dante spoke louder, addressing his men. "In the meantime, don't kill the reapers! Did you get that Lovejoy?"

"Yes, sir," came the grumbling response.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that!"

"Yes, Mr. President!" he said, grabbing the walkie talkie out of her hand. "Loud and clear!"

And so it was that they tip toed past the crippled reapers and continued on their way, subduing all that crossed their path with nothing more than sound. She would have to get Clarke to explain how this was possible later on. The girl she was holding upright began to stumble and lean into her more heavily. Lexa offered her words of encouragement in Trigedasleng, which spurred her on again.

When she figured they must be getting close to their camp, more footfalls neared. They were different than the reapers, more honed and silent. Lovejoy sounded the device but the people kept moving towards them. They raised their guns instead.

"Wait!" commanded Lexa. "Lower your weapons."

The guards listened to her for once. Lexa strode out in front of them, leaving the weak girl behind and learning against the wall.

"Who's there?" she said in Trigedasleng. "Show yourselves."

"Commander?" came the reverberating call a few seconds later.

_Indra_.

She relaxed slightly. "When you round the bend, Indra, do not be alarmed. And do not attack."

Feet shuffled until Indra, Gustus and a small army came into view, torches lighting their way. They eyed the scene before them in bewilderment and alarm and one raised a spear at the mountain men, who were likewise on the verge of attacking. Indra snatched it out of his hand before he could throw it. She saw her coat slung across his massive forearm and knew Athena must have made it back to camp and thereby led them to the scene of the carnage. They were all dressed for battle. Thankfully the mountain men had managed to locate her own clothing and she was no longer in the ill fitting, mismatched outfit and looking the fool.

"What is this commander?" Gustus asked in sleng, viewing the mountain men in extreme loathing. "What have you done?"

She held herself as stoically as she could. "We will discuss that later. Right now our people need healers attending to them."

One of the warriors exclaimed aloud, recognizing one of the bled. This created a bit of a fervor that Indra quickly quelled with a single word. She looked to Lexa with those hard, calculating eyes for a time and then to the mountain men and then back. Lexa understood that she was unwilling to turn her back on armed mountain men.

"You may go," she said to Lovejoy.

There would be no thank you's here in front of her people.

Lovejoy gestured for the others to follow and the bled parted ways enough for them to get by. Lexa moved closer to Gustus and Indra. They both stared at her for a time, eyes flickering down to the bandage on both her palm and forearm. The latter was covering up the removal of the tracking device. Finding out about its existence had finally explained to her why no one ever escaped the mountain alive. Neither asked about the bandages. Likely they already understood the significance of the one around her palm and were reserving their disapproval for later so as not to embarrass her in front of their people. Gustus held out her coat, dagger and sword, which she promptly put on and attached respectively. Except for the lack of braids, she was feeling much more like herself and beginning to look forward to laying down on her furs, preferably with Clarke, and forgetting her troubles for the moment. Convincing the clan leaders to send warriors to be bled on a regular basis was not going to be an easy task, and she hardly relished yet another obstacle tonight. If she could muster up the energy to be exceedingly threatening, she might be able to hold off explaining herself until tomorrow.

The warriors before her parted, muttering her title as she went by. Without being asked, many of the warriors went to help those that could barely stand, including the girl she had been supporting early. A few shouted happily at being reunited with a loved one. Her heart warmed briefly and she shared a content look with Clarke. Satisfied that everyone was ready, she and Clarke led her people the rest of the way out of the mountain, passing a dozen or so dead reapers along the way. Some had been beheaded. Vaguely she wondered if any of them could have been saved. She thought not. But Clarke was hopeful and not yet jaded to the harsh realities of this world, and Lexa loved her all the more for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #Cagerson
> 
> So I made a crack vid and if you're interested you can check it out here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtO0_tdDrB8
> 
> There's also a Clexa one from a few months ago.


	13. Chapter 13

While the many joyful reunions were underway, Lexa ordered Nyko to round up the healers and immediately begin attending to the bled. This task was made all the easier due to the enormous ruckus her people were making; few healers had to be woken at this late hour. Lexa stood aside by the warmth of a fire, watching as hardened warriors wept into the arms of their beloved. Her throat quivered and she felt tearful herself. She couldn't help but think of Costia and the reunion that would never be.

Sensing her internal distress, Clarke slipped her hand into hers and squeezed once. Lexa looked away from the healers tending to various injuries and utter exhaustion, and over to Clarke. The girl was smiling at her sweetly, comfortingly and Lexa blinked away the pent up emotion and smiled back in her reserved way. It was hard to believe that only hours ago they had been in the Great Tree about to make love. The thought of Clarke's soft hands all over her sent her into a tizzy. Clarke raised an eyebrow at Lexa's sudden and unexpected arousal. Then she smirked and nodded, flickering flames over a backdrop of deepening night in her eyes.

Quick as lightning she surveyed the area. Indra and Gustus were close by and approaching Anya, one of the few to leave the mountain in her own attire. Undoubtedly they wanted to question her about what happened, and about her own reckless actions. Lexa wanted nothing more than to disappear with Clarke into her tent, before the fallout from tonight's actions took effect, but that was not to be. There was no telling what Anya might say. She had to stop their discussion before it began. With a will that only she possessed, she let go of Clarke's hand and pushed aside her increasing arousal.

"Anya, come here," she commanded. Anya looked between Indra and Gustus and her. "Now!"

Her ex-mentor moved around the fire, coat swirling up sparks as she passed. They shared a look for a moment and then Lexa turned on her heel and swiftly headed towards her tent. Once they were within, she quickly lit a few candles and then settled into her throne. It was clear that Anya was not going to be the one to break the silence.

As always, Lexa had trouble reading her. In some respects, Anya was even more indifferent looking most of the time than she was herself, betraying little with body language. Normally this wasn't a problem because they were on the same side. But now...now it was uncertain where they stood.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked, posing the same question she had the first time they were at a crossroads.

Anya's eyes bore into her own and then flickered down to her bandaged palm. "That depends, commander, what did _you_ do?"

She stiffened slightly at the use of her title. Anya only did that when she felt like mocking. She was the only one still alive who could get away with such insolence.

"What I must," she replied simply.

Anya glowered at that. "You made a deal with the mountain men."

It wasn't a question but Lexa answered all the same. "Yes."

"Now is not the time to be withholding."

The threat was clear as Clarke's love for her, inexplicable as that may be. Tell me everything right now or I'll finish what we started.

Lexa stifled a sigh. "In exchange for our people's continued freedom, for the end of the reapers, we must now give them weekly blood donations."

There was no reaction whatsoever, except for a slight twitch of the lips. Lexa couldn't tell if she was amused or furious.

Anya took out her dagger and played with it, tossing it up in the air before catching it, as if they weren't in the middle of an important conversation. If she was expecting her to be unnerved or annoyed, she was sadly mistaken. Lexa patiently waited. Clarke did not.

"Oh for fuck's sake," groaned Clarke. "Just tell us what you're going to do!"

As if Anya heard that she caught the dagger one last time between two fingers, point directed towards Lexa. "I have made my decision."

"And?!" yelled Clarke when Anya paused deliberately overlong.

"You should call for Indra and Gustus."

Clarke screamed in frustration and Lexa ground her teeth as the turmoil found its way to her senses. She almost wanted to tell Clarke to go away...almost.

Anya knew very well that her guard Curtis was deaf, which meant Lexa had to go find them herself. She stalked past Anya and over to her tent flaps, only to find them within arms reach. She wondered how long they had been there and how much they had overheard. In somewhat of a foul mood now, she barked for them to come in. Lexa was too antsy to take her throne once more and she stood before them fiddling with the clasp of her dagger, wondering how best to explain this deal.

"How much did you hear?" she said, eyeing her top general and her displaced bodyguard.

"Enough, commander," was Gustus' solemn reply, eyes betraying his unease.

"Speak truly," she commanded of him.

"This deal will be the death of you," he said gruffer than usual.

"Gustus is right," agreed Indra, face stony as ever.

Clarke balled her fists up and stepped into their spaces. "You don't know what you're talking about! Lexa did a good thing! She freed her people and brought an end to suffering! She's going to be fine! She's-"

"Enough!" snapped Lexa, as Clarke's franticness became unbearable.

Clarke looked hurt, the others looked confused, except for Anya. Lexa ignored the pang of regret in the pit of her stomach. She took a few seconds to compose herself again.

Indra continued with, "When the clans learn of the terms you have agreed to, they will mutiny. They will never agree to voluntarily be bled by the enemy. There is no honour in that."

"They will do as I say," she said, more to reassure herself than to anyone else. "I will make them understand that this is for the best."

"They will not understand," said Gustus. "They will view this as a betrayal."

"They will wonder if you are in your right mind," added Anya unhelpfully.

Though it was never stipulated, she had known that Dante would never have let her leave alive unless she agreed to the deal. She knew too much about the inner workings of their mountain. It would only have motivated her further to find a way in and slaughter every last one of them. If she broke their blood oath and attempted to storm the no doubt now heavily guarded 'reaper' door, there was no telling what might happen. A sniper escaping and picking off her people one by one. A full on onslaught by the reapers. Another missile strike...

In this at least, she had a chance. She knew her people and she knew how to make them see things her way.

She had to or she would die.

"You should have heeded my warning," said Indra with some heat, breaking the stifling quiet. "You should not have left camp."

The unasked question was obvious. _Why_ did you leave camp?

"You have yet to explain my dismissal from your side," said Gustus, a hint of hurt peaking through his stoic demeanour. Gustus had loyally protected her ever since she became commander, even taken an arrow to the knee, and she had thanked him by banishing him to training duty in favour of a boy who had yet to see real combat. All so that she could converse with Clarke in private.

Lexa shared a look with Anya. In that moment she realized Anya's decision was to let Lexa do as she saw fit, as these untenable circumstances required her to act. Perhaps this lack of action was her way of thanking Lexa for freeing her from the cage. Or perhaps Anya figured she would die regardless of what she told the clan leaders.

If she wanted Indra and Gustus' continued loyalty, she would have to explain herself. The idea took a large hit on what remained of her strength. She sank into her throne, resting an arm and leaning her pulsing forehead against her fingertips.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Without looking she knew who it belonged to.

"They'll stand by you."

"How can you be so sure?" she muttered wearily.

"Because they care about you."

The words rang true. And so Lexa took a leap of faith and told them about Clarke.

* * *

"They reacted better than I imagined they would," said Lexa sleepily, back to Clarke.

Clarke snorted softly at that as she ran her fingers through Lexa's hair, gently massaging her dully aching skull. It felt so good. She couldn't remember the last time someone had done this for her. No, that was a lie, she knew exactly when the last time was. She simply chose not to remember because it was too painful.

"I didn't know Indra had more than one facial expression. I thought she was born that way."

Eyes closed, Lexa smiled into the fur of her pillow. "We may not show much on the outside, Clarke, but there is a world of feeling just beneath the surface."

"Yeah, I've kind of already figured that out, silly," said Clarke, reaching around to bop her on the nose.

She nodded, the drowsiness beckoning her to say goodnight. She was afraid to.

"They didn't say much though." Clarke sounded unsure.

"When we first met, Clarke, I told you that our people believed in the connectedness of all living things. If Indra believed me to be of unsound mind, she would have surely let me know."

 _She is too blunt and stubborn to be afraid of me_.

Clarke's hands trailed to her clothed back, stroking lightly through the thin fabric. She shivered as if she weren't under her furs. "Why did Anya feel so strongly that you had lost your mind?"

"Anya is one of the few who don't believe in the aforementioned connectedness...in reincarnation. She thinks we have but one life to live."

"So why does she believe you to be the commander?"

_I'm not so sure she does anymore._

"I suppose she has had enough proof over the years to know I am the right choice."

_Or am I?_

"Why were you afraid of her telling the clan leaders?"

Lexa would have chuckled at this inquisitiveness if she weren't so terribly exhausted. "No matter what we believe, Clarke," she murmured, voice slow with lethargy, "it is always a risk to introduce spectacular ideas. My people are not very receptive to new ways of thinking."

Clarke was silent for awhile, so Lexa begrudgingly turned over and cocked an eye open. She looked deep in thought. "Clarke?"

Clarke's distant eyes snapped to hers. "You're going to be okay, right?" she whispered, her sweet breath ghosting across her cheek.

The truth was, Lexa was not so sure anymore. When she made the deal, she felt confident in her ability to sway the masses. But her most trusted confidantes were of a completely different mind.

Lazily, Lexa brought a hand up to the side of Clarke's face. She brushed her lips across her forehead and then kissed lower, savouring the taste. "I'm going to be okay," she vowed, desperately wanting to believe her own lie, desperately wanting to stay with Clarke like this forever.

Clarke hugged her close until she drifted off. They parted ways then.

Clarke could not follow into the dream world, at least not in a tangible form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically Gustus thinks everything will be the death of Lexa. :p
> 
> Apparently franticness isn't a word but I beg to differ.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ho, hi ho, back to the Ark we go! This chap was super fun to write! :D

With Lexa safe and sound for the moment, Clarke decided it was past time to take action. As far as she was concerned, she should have been on Earth weeks ago, never mind the fact that she had only been released from her cell today. Rational thought wasn't part of the equation right now. She feared for Lexa's life (once again) and delusionally figured her real presence would be enough to save her. Well, that and guns. Lots and lots of guns. If the NRA still existed, she would be its shining beacon.

So the second her monitor left his post (as evidenced by a shadow flickering past the door) she began trying to wriggle her wrists free from her 'leather' restraints. She almost wished they used old fashioned handcuffs on the Ark, it might have been easier going. After all, she had some practice now. As it was, all she was accomplishing was rope burn.

_Come on, goddamn you, I need to get out of here!_

_And then what, Clarke_? said the small irritating voice in the back of her mind. _What exactly do you plan to do? You're hundreds of miles from Earth and who knows how many more from Lexa, and no one is going to let you have a drop ship._

_Well, of course no one is going to_ _let_ _me_! she barked back. _I wasn't exactly planning on asking_!

_You have no idea how to program and operate a drop ship,_ supplied the voice.

_Then I'll find someone who does! At gun point if necessary!_

_You have no idea how to operate a firearm either._

_I think I can figure it out, thank you very much!_

_Are you really so selfish as to steal one of only two drop ships just for yourself and your foolhardy plan_?

Clarke didn't bother responding to the voice anymore and continued struggling against the restraints. Her vicious manoeuvres were sure to rub the skin raw and soon it would be bleeding. Just like Lexa's had. Just like Lexa's soon would again? The thought motivated her to tug on the straps with everything she had.

_Don't you think it highly likely you will just die as soon as you breathe the toxic air_?

"Shut up! Shut up Shut up!" she screamed as she finally managed to wrench one of her wrists free. And indeed it was raw and on the verge of bleeding, but no blood had stained her snow white skin yet. Though it was stinging painfully, she immediately began tearing at the clasp on her other wrist, successfully prying it loose in mere seconds.

Free now, she reached over to the heart monitor and entered the code that would turn it off without setting the alarm haywire. It was standard fare. Every model on the Ark was the same and she had been around plenty of these monitors in her day. Next she pulled off the pads on her upper chest, the irritation from this paling in comparison to her ravaged wrists.

They would notice soon enough that something was amiss, but doing things this way bought her a tiny bit of time. Unfortunately this was no typical Ark room. After her apparent 'raving' in the fMRI machine, they had her transferred to the 'observation' room reserved for psychotics. In the earlier, laxer years on the Ark, there had been a number of psychopaths and schizophrenics that doctors had tried to treat, most unsuccessfully.

'Spacemania' had been even more problematic. The first people aboard the thirteen nations' space stations had consisted mostly of scientists. Scientists who had been on Earth once upon a time. Knowing that all your loved ones were probably dead and that you were trapped in a tin can for the rest of your life wasn't exactly conducive to clear thought. Hence manic, cabin fever tendencies.

Nowadays they didn't bother with treatment, they simply floated you if you maimed or killed someone, regardless if you were mentally ill or not. She wasn't concerned about anything like that happening to her. Not with her dad as Chancellor. Not when she was underage. Not when she _wasn't_ crazy.

As she threw back the blanket, the rough material whipped across a wrist and she hissed through clenched teeth. She pushed herself out of the bed, recoiled at the cool of the metal floor, and slunk towards the only door. Try as she might, it wouldn't budge. It was obviously locked from the outside.

_What did you expect?_ said the voice. _You're in a mental health observation room. Did you really think you were the first person to try and break free?_

"Shut up!" she seethed, attempting to squeeze her fingers through the crack and pry it open that way. She couldn't get a good grasp and only managed to tear the skin off her fingertips. They began to throb along with her wrists and yet she ignored the pain as much as possible and tried again. After a second unsuccessful attempt, blood spotted the side of the door and she was in agony.

Clarke pounded her nemesis in frustration...only to have it swing inwards. She jumped out of the way as her monitor entered the room. She recognized the man from a multitude of surgeries. His name was Jackson and he adored her mother.

_That makes one of us_.

She knew she shouldn't have let her mother put her in here, but reacting at all would have alerted Lexa to her distress and she had had enough on her plate as it was. Clarke hadn't wanted her to be distracted from staying alive. Lexa would have felt obligated to come to her rescue...again. It was Clarke's turn to return the favour and no one was going to stand in her way.

"You've hurt yourself," said Jackson, eyeing her warily.

"How observant of you!" she spat back, clenching fists and nearly gasping at the contact.

"Take it easy now, Clarke," he replied, hands out placatingly, even as he pushed her further into the room. "You've been under a lot of mental stress lately. You don't want to aggravate your mind anymore than you already have. It could lead to permanent brain damage."

_The only permanent damage will be my fist in your face!_

_That's not very nice, Clarke._

"Get out of my way, Jackson," she scowled as they neared the bed where he would almost certainly try to pin her down again.

"I can't do that, Clarke. Your mother and father are very concerned about you." Pleadingly, "Let us help you."

"I'm fine, but thanks for offering," she said sarcastically as she dodged his lunge and kneed him in the groin.

He groaned, clutching at himself and feebly reaching for her as she dashed past him and through the open door, slamming it shut and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the hallway was unoccupied. The clock in the room informed her it was just after seven in the 'evening'. Rush hour for the cafeteria.

_Now where to_? asked the annoying voice. _The armoury?_

_Obviously!_

_Right. Because a person clothed in grey underwear with bloody hands won't raise their suspicions at all. I'm sure they'll let you waltz right into a highly secure area and take your pick._

Rather than tell the voice to shut up again, she instead grumbled to herself and raced towards her home, intent on bandaging up her aching fingers and then throwing on the first thing that fit. She would have to be quick about it because she was now sprinting past many startled people, drawing far too much attention to herself, not the least of which was the blood running down her closed fists and across her sensitive wrists.

The good news was no one was home. She rushed into the bathroom and fumbled around with the first aid kit until she managed to undue its clasp. Using her teeth as much as possible, she unscrewed the lid to the antiseptic, took a deep breath...and then hesitated. She told herself to stop being such a wuss, that this was nothing in comparison to what Lexa had gone through in the decontamination chamber.

_I wouldn't be so sure about that_ , said the voice.

Without further ado she dumped it over the sensitive, ravaged fingertips of her left hand. She howled and gasped, nearly dropping the bottle in the sink, spilling its contents. Heart thundering, she willed herself to do the same to her other hand. It hurt like hell but it was over soon enough. She wrapped a bandage around the fingertips of the first hand, careful not to make it too tight. With a claw for a left hand, and a reduction in shocks at the slightest touch, the task on her right hand was easier and faster. For good measure she did up her burned wrists too and popped a pill for the mounting pain.

In her bedroom she opened her dresser and blindly yanked out a top and a pair of pants, dressing clumsily now that her hands were somewhat immobilized. She should have done each finger individually, but she hadn't wanted to waste the time. She pulled on her favourite pair of boots, the same ones Lexa had used to kick those guards asses, and then grabbed her blue 'leather' jacket before exiting her room.

She sat down in the same seat her father had to record his infamous message to Ark's inhabitants. She might never see her parents again and wanted to leave them something to remember her by. Clarke was careful to leave her hands out of frame, and did her best to keep her voice tremble free. The further she got into the message, the more impossible this became.

Everything changed when she heard a familiar voice speaking her name. She stopped mid sentence to find Wells in the doorway. Both were surprised to see the other and it was written all over their faces. For a second she forgot what her mission was and just stared, remembering the bad way they had left things over three weeks ago.

In an instant, the surprise morphed into confusion and worry when he saw her hands and wrists.

"What happened, Clarke?" he asked, frowning. He looked back to her face, searching for answers. "Are you okay?"

Somehow she knew he wasn't just talking about her hands anymore. She decided to take the time to say goodbye properly, even though most of her mind screamed for her to keep moving, that she had delayed too long as it was.

Clarke stood up and took his hands in her bandaged ones, bits of red starting to peak through. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you before, Wells. I should have realized you would never betray me like that. I've always cherished our friendship," she said, smiling softly, the fire in her eyes extinguished for the moment, "even if I didn't show it most of the time. Thank you for sticking by me for as long as you did." She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek, something she had never done before.

His eyes widened anew. He wasn't stupid. He knew something was up even if she didn't say the 'may we meet again'.

"Clarke," he said anxiously, still blocking her way, "what's going on?" His kind eyes were pained. "Your parents said you had some sort of breakdown and wouldn't let me see you."

"Yeah, it probably looked like that to them," she muttered, glancing off to the side, "but it wasn't."

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Please talk to me."

"I've got to go now, Wells, there's no time to waste."

He didn't stand aside. She didn't want to hurt him, but she would if she had to.

Wells gave her his determined look and she prepared to kick him. "Whatever you're up to, Clarke, I'm in."

For a second she was taken aback but then she just nodded and together they left her home, probably for the last time ever. She should have argued with him, told him he wasn't allowed to risk imprisonment (or worse) on her account but she knew there was no swaying his mind once it was made up. They were the same in that regard and it was a large part of why they sometimes didn't get along very well.

While they made their way to the armoury, she was almost glad he had come with her. She was going to need all the help she could get to break in and stock up. However, once they were there and he realized where they were, he became a big pain in the ass again.

"I'm not going to let you do this," he said sternly, grabbing her arm as she scouted out the vicinity. As far as she could tell, it was deserted.

She shrugged him off, glowering. "I thought you said you were in."

"I only said that to keep an eye on you. You're acting-"

"Crazy?" she snapped.

His non-response was answer enough. "Why do you think you need guns?"

She huffed in frustration at yet another delay. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

_Okay, I'll give it to you straight. See how you like that._

"I'm going to Earth to save the love of my life."

Wells was so flabbergasted by her answer that he just stood there in a dazed manner as she turned away from him and slunk closer to the armoury.

"Clarke!" he hissed when he came back to his senses. "Get back here!"

She didn't heed him and instead began puzzling over how to bypass the number pad like her dad had to gain entrance into the communications mainframe.

_First things first. Pop this sucker open._

This was easier said than done now that she had claws for hands.

_Wow, Clarke,_ said the voice _, your plan has worked out brilliantly so far. I take it the self maiming was on purpose?_

Still, she managed to pry it open somehow, a dull throb returning to her fingertips. Fiddling with the wires inside was another story altogether. Frantically, she tried to think back to what her dad had done. But the memory was all blurred. It had been a very hectic time for them (not unlike right now) and she had mostly kept lookout.

_Say you do get in there,_ continued the voice _. How do you plan on firing anything? You don't exactly have a trigger finger. Are you going to throw the guns at the bad grounders who might try to hurt Lexa?_

_Would you please just shut the fuck up for once!_

_Would you please use some common sense for once?_ it retaliated. _This isn't going to work. You're just sentencing yourself to more Sky Box time. You do realize that, don't you? I'm sure your favourite guard will be more than happy to withhold shower time again. Smelling like the garbage disposal unit is so fun. Very enjoyable and sexy. That's why you kept Lexa at bay the last time, right?_

Beyond irritated and harassed, she completely tore off the num pad, wires dangling freely. The door remained locked. It was then that she noticed Wells by her side, silently trying to steer her away before...

"What's going on here?" said a cold, whispery voice, breaking through the furious haze of her mind.

She groaned internally when she turned to find none other than Marcus Kane watching them, his dead, soulless eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting more revenge.

"I asked you a question, Clarke," he said, grinning slightly as he stepped closer, hand hovering over his baton.

Clarke was about to square off with him when Wells blocked her from view and said, "I was trying to break into the armoury."

"You?" muttered Kane, still smirking.

Wells nodded. "Clarke was trying to stop me, but I wouldn't listen."

"Why would _you_ want to break into the armoury?" he asked sceptically.

When he hesitated, Clarke jumped in, pushing to the front. "He's lying. He had nothing to do with this. This was all me."

"Oh, I know," Kane said, smug look plastered. "We've been looking all over for you, Clarke. I should have known you would try to do something stupid. It's what you do best." He shook his head in amusement. "Well, come along then children, let's get this over with."

_I'm sure this is going to go great._

_Aaahhhh!_

* * *

"You assaulted Jackson and tried to break into the armoury, Clarke?"

Kane leaned smugly against the wall of the council chambers as her father sighed, rubbing at his face. He got up from the Chancellor's seat at the head of the table and walked over to her, his weathered face looking equal parts sad and caring.

"What am I going to do with you, kiddo?" he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"A year in Sky Box should sort her out," said Kane, eyeing her evilly. "If _I_ were Chancellor, repeat offenders would immediately be floated no matter their age."

Her father ignored him, eyes never leaving her own. "I need you to talk to me, Clarke. Tell me what's going on with you." Clarke didn't speak right away, not sure how to begin. Her dad sighed again. Then he glanced at Kane and said, "Please leave us."

Kane looked like he wanted to argue, wanted to stay and watch the punishment doled out, but he didn't and instead haughtily left the room. The hum of the Ark permeated the air in their continued silence.

He gently took her bandaged hands. "I can't let you hurt yourself again. If you don't tell me what's going on with you, I'll have no choice but to put you back in observation...heavily sedated." He stroked the side of her face, something she never thought she'd experience again...or at least, not for a very long time. Clarke leaned into the touch, her throat constricting, knowing she was causing him pain. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

_Yes, because crash landing on Earth and dying right after wouldn't have pained him. You've got quite the level head on your shoulders, Clarke Griffin._

"It's hard to explain," she finally croaked out.

Her father held himself more rigidly, like he was physically preparing himself for a blow. "Take your time. Whenever you're ready...I'm all ears."

Attempting to steady the emotion threatening to pour forth, Clarke took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "You remember when the guards came to take you away, and I...did some crazy martial arts moves?"

"Vaguely," her dad said with a small wry smile. An effort to keep the mood light. The lightness didn't reach his eyes. They were now full of trepidation and uncertainty.

"Well, it wasn't... _me_ who did them."

Her father blinked a few times, waiting for the punchline. He raised an eyebrow. "Keep going, Clarke."

"I was afraid I would never see you again," she said thickly, tears brimming at the traumatic memory. He squeezed her upper arms. "I tried to break free, but couldn't. And then I saw her."

"Her?"

"Lexa. We're connected somehow. I can experience everything she does. And she...took over my body and helped me save you. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it's the truth."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Is Lexa the girl you said you loved?" he said softly.

"Yes," she replied, even softer.

Silence. "Is she still in danger?"

Clarke nodded, throat too full for speech.

"You wanted the guns to save her?"

Another nod. Another lengthy lull filled with the ever present hum. Had it always been so loud?

Hesitatingly, as if he were afraid to ask, as if he had forgotten her desperate declaration, "Where is Lexa, Clarke?"

Unable to speak, she instead looked to the floor between them. He looked where she was looking and after several seconds he started on the spot, eyes wide like Wells had been. "You don't mean..." he trailed off slowly.

She nodded.

"The girl in the forest?"

She nodded again.

Her father ran a hand through his greying hair and then took the nearest seat. "Oh boy."

She knelt in front of him, placing her bandaged hands over top his own. Clarke cleared her throat and with increasing speed and excitement said, "Earth will be survivable for us too, Dad. I just know it. A hundred of us or so could take the smaller drop ship and set up camp, gather supplies. Then when the oxygen levels are depleted too much, the rest of us can come down too. We can make this work, it'll be-"

"You don't know yet, do you?" he interrupted, a strange mixture of incredulity and contriteness spread across his features.

"Know what?" she said, unconsciously holding her breath.

"Nothing," he muttered, hastily looking away, which immediately raised her suspicions and made it her mission to get down to the bottom of his reticence.

"Dad," she frowned, applying more pressure to his legs. If she had had fingernails on hand, they would definitely be digging in deep. "What aren't you telling me?"

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" She just stared at him determinedly and he sighed loudly, rubbing at his tired eyes. Then he gazed at her, smiling sadly.

"Sweetie, we fixed the oxygen system three days ago."

_Happy birthday, Clarke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles forever*
> 
> Did anyone see this coming?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actually hint at this turn of events...in chapter 8 and even more vaguely in chapter 10...so yeah, not surprised no one picked up on it...I mean, you weren't really supposed to. ;)

Whatever faint hope she had of convincing her parents to let her go down to Earth evaporated on the spot. If the oxygen system was fully functional again, they would never in a million years risk their only child's life.

"You..fixed it?" she choked, suddenly feeling light headed as though all the air had left the room, as though she were actually suffering from oxygen deprivation. Even though she was on her knees, she swayed slightly, vision becoming hazy.

"Clarke," said her father anxiously, hands slipping out from underneath hers and going to her shoulders to keep her steady. "Are you okay? Damn, I shouldn't have told you."

"You fixed it," she muttered again absently, oblivious to his touch, oblivious to her own deterioration.

"I'm going to call for your mom," he informed her. "You're not well."

When he sat her down in his chair and headed to the exit, the same one the guards had swarmed in through a month ago, she snapped to her senses.

"No, wait!" she shouted, startling him and stopping him in his tracks. Though she still felt woozy, she forced herself to her feet and hurried over to him. "Don't bring her here!"

"Kiddo," he said uncertainly, as she clutched at his arms.

"I'm okay, dad," she lied, doing her best to keep her voice level. "Really."

He frowned but nodded. She took his hand and led them back over to the table to sit knee to knee. "How?" she puffed out, doing her best to cover up her laboured breathing. "I thought you said it wasn't possible?"

"That's what the simulations said. They aren't infallible. They can't account for every variable ever...like Raven Reyes."

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "That was the girl who I..." she blushed faintly at the memory of babbling Trigedasleng in her face and then attempting to kiss her. Raven probably thought she was bat shit crazy, just like everyone else on the Ark. And really, she couldn't blame them. If she were in their shoes, she'd think the same way.

Her father nodded. "Yeah. After you were put in Sky Box..." he trailed off, sounding guilty. She nudged a knee, bringing him back to the present. "Well, my message worked just like I hoped it would. All of the brightest minds came together and brainstormed solutions to our predicament. We were at it nonstop for nearly a week before something clicked. Raven suggested that we reconfigure and rebuild the...well it's pretty complicated, I'd rather not get into it. Let's just say she pulled a rabbit out of the hat." He smiled proudly, lost in his own world. "The oxygen systems up and running at one hundred percent efficiency again. We shouldn't have any more problems for years to come. It's a thing of beauty."

Clarke swallowed hard, gripping her knees tight while she processed this unexpected development some more. She should have been ecstatic that her people weren't going to die in a year or two's time anymore. Instead she felt a crippling black hole fast forming within her, threatening to suck her into nothingness. Clarke placed a bandaged hand to her stomach, as if that would keep her together and make the queasiness pass.

How would she ever get to Earth now to save Lexa?

The tears pricked painfully and she brushed them away before they could fall. Her dad was looking at her concernedly again.

"I believe you, you know," he said quietly. "About Lexa. About Earth."

She was surprised. "You do? You don't think I'm crazy and hallucinating?"

He shook his head. "Your mother has run every diagnostic there is to run and she's found nothing physically wrong with you. There's no chemical imbalances in your brain either. The only thing different between you and me is that your brain produces an unclassified neurotransmitter. It's produced in the sense areas of your brain. They don't know what its function is, but it seems pretty obvious to me. It lets you connect to another person who produces the same neurotransmitter." He paused to lick his lips. "You said that she 'took over your body.'" Clarke nodded. "Well, Albert Einstein had something to say about inexplicable connections. His theory of relativity allowed for quantum entanglement, which is to say, two particles connected in an intimate manner. They could be separated at vast distances but still react instantaneously to each other, as if they were one. But he didn't like this idea because it seemed too far fetched and implausible. He famously called it 'spooky action at a distance.'"

Clarke hadn't been expecting that and had to bite back a laugh as her mind immediately went to a dirty place that involved a steaming shower and the best sex of her life.

Apparently she hadn't hid her amusement as well as she'd thought because her dad gave her a puzzled look and said, "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, dad," she said quickly, smirk falling off. "You were saying?"

He stared at her a bit more before nodding. "Physicists in the early twenty-first century proved Einstein's views to be wrong. Quantum entanglement _is_ possible. Therefore, I believe that this neurotransmitter you produce is facilitating a physical process of nature that everyone else is simply unaware of, but is always present."

She mulled that over for a few seconds, then frowned, recalling something she had often pondered. "Say you're right, dad...how come I'm only just _now_ experiencing the effects of quantum entanglement? Why didn't I 'meet' Lexa a long time ago?"

"I'm not sure," he said after a lengthy pause. "You said it was first triggered when the guards took me away...so maybe extreme stress activated the pathway that produced the neurotransmitter?"

Her brow furrowed further. "But I know for a fact that Lexa has undergone her fair share of stress at a young age."

A vivid mental image of a freezing eight year old Lexa in the deep snow flashed by. She shuddered.

"I suppose the pathway had to be activated on both sides, Clarke." He shrugged. "That's the best guess I've got."

The idea that she could have met Lexa when she was a child was somewhat startling and disheartening. If only she hadn't been such a 'princess', she could have been there for Lexa when her mother died and helped to comfort her. She could have been there through all the highs and lows of adolescence, of being chosen to lead her people, of her first love...

Would their relationship be completely different now if they had been aware of each other as children? Would it be even stronger? Weaker? Would Lexa still have courted Costia and gone through that terrible heartbreak? Would Clarke still be madly in love with her?

They were both silent for a time until she broke it, agitated. " _Now_ what happens?"

He ran a hand through his hair again and looked at her apologetically. "You know I can't let you go to Earth. From the sounds of things, it's incredibly dangerous...even leaving aside the radiation levels...which I can't. We didn't arbitrarily pick one hundred years from now to go down, Clarke."

She had expected him to say as much, but it still fired her up all the same. She stood, glaring down at him. "So you believe me and know that Lexa is in grave danger [and that I am in love with her] but you won't let me _do_ anything about it?!"

She stomped away from him when he didn't immediately reply. "Clarke, wait." She stopped, back to him, impatiently waiting. "I really am sorry. I wish I could-"

"Save it!" she barked before exiting the council chamber, only to be blocked by Kane.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

This was the third man to get in her way in the last hour and she was beyond sick of it. Clarke needed to rage in order to avoid feeling the devastation looming within. She was a second away from attacking the irritating asshole when Wells swam into view, grim faced and shaking his head. She was pissed at him too. If he had been more helpful, maybe she would have gotten into the armoury faster and would already have commandeered a drop ship and be on her way to save Lexa.

"Get out of my way, Kane," she scowled, getting into the same fighting pose Lexa had used on him and Shumway last time, "before I kick your ass again."

Kane was actually taken aback by her threatening demeanour and not so smug and sure of himself. He didn't immediately do anything when she pushed past him. Then he grabbed her arm.

"Not so fast, Clarke. You're not getting off so lightly this time."

_Lightly? Lightly?!_

A month in Sky Box for wounding his self pride was not what she called lightly. What made it worse was that her parents had _let_ him call the shots, even though they were in charge! Was no one on her side up here in this stupid, stinking tin can?

"Let her go," said Wells from nearby.

Kane ignored him and continued to grip her arm tight. "Children who misbehave need to be punished. It's the only way to ensure order."

The door to the council chamber opened and Jake frowned at the sight before him. "Marcus, unhand my daughter."

"She needs to be punished," he said sourly, not listening. "She could have endangered the entire Ark with her stunt. As Chancellor, you have a duty to take action, regardless if she is your daughter. You did so once before, don't let emotion stop you now."

"I said, unhand my daughter."

Even in Clarke's furious haze, she could hear the cold and commanding quality to the voice, so unlike his own. It was enough to snap her attention from Kane's face to Jake's. She had rarely seen her father so intimidating. The last time was when he caught her with a boy in her room...in a state of undress.

"Right now."

Kane finally let her go and she shrugged away from him for good measure. The two men faced off. Clarke didn't care, leaving them to their petty squabble. She needed to go vent her frustration and rage somehow.

"You can't just let her walk away from this!" hissed Kane.

"Watch me," said her dad.

Their voices were quickly swallowed up in the swirling vortex of her mind.

When Wells caught up and touched her shoulder, she whirled on him and said, "I don't want to speak to you right now." And because she was feeling particularly savage, she drove the final nail in, just like their last falling out. "Maybe never."

Wells let her go too, his face so stony she almost regretted her words. Almost.

Free now, Clarke's one track mind led her into an area she didn't normally go, except for the odd time she visited her dad at work. She scanned along the empty work benches, looking for a certain raven haired girl. It was late and Clarke didn't really expect her to be here still, but she was, silver necklace dangling, welder mask on and sparks flying. Clarke did the thing you weren't supposed to do. She snuck up on her and tapped her on the shoulder. Raven jumped, screwing up the metal seam she was attempting to fix.

"Shit! Don't you know better than to-" Raven stopped as she saw who was there. She shut off the welder, putting it aside, and then lifted back the shield, raising an eyebrow at a furious looking Clarke and her fucked up hands. "What the hell happened to you?"

All of Clarke's rage decided this was the perfect place to release itself. Clarke shoved Raven into the table, bits of scrap metal and bolts bouncing.

"What the fuck, Clarke?!" demanded Raven as she righted herself, scowling.

"I was so close! So damn close!" roared Clarke, shoving her again, this time even harder. Raven bent over the table backwards. Bandaged claws to her shoulders kept her in place. "But then _you_ had to screw everything up!"

"Screwed _what_ up?!" Raven yelled, trying to push her off, but failing. Clarke's anger was fuelling her strength. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"You fixed the oxygen system!" she screamed. "Now I'll never get to Earth!"

Raven's outrage slipped away, to be replaced with fear. "You really _are_ crazy." Clarke's eyes flickered to the welder and Raven kicked her in the shin. Hard. The pain was intense but she didn't let go. So Raven kicked her again in the exact same spot. This time she was released amongst a barrage of nonsense curse words.

Raven moved away from the table so she couldn't get pinned down again, briefly eyeing a large grey wrench before locking them with hers. "Look, you're clearly messed up in the head, and I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you come at me again."

Beyond the pain, Clarke's brain managed to register the wrench's existence. It was the same one the girl had used to keep the guards at bay in front of the air lock. What was wrong with her? Why was she attacking the person who saved her father? Who saved everyone?

_Except for Lexa._

Her despair finally won out and she dropped to her knees sobbing, her bloodied bandages soaking up her sorrow.

Raven groaned, "Shit," and then knelt in front of her. Clarke threw herself into Raven's arms, now ugly crying into the crook of her neck. Raven's hands eventually came up to embrace her back. They stayed like that for a time, neither saying anything until Clarke was finally all cried out. She let Raven go, wiping at her face where copious amounts of snot had leaked out. Raven made a face at the state of her shirt, but didn't comment, at least not about the disgusting mess.

"I think I liked you better when you were trying to kiss me," said Raven with a smirk.

Clarke snorted and more snot came out that they both chose to ignore. "Yeah, sorry about that." She looked at Raven meaningfully. "Sorry about all of this too." Clarke slumped, glancing at the floor. "You're right, I'm really messed up."

"I know something about that. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, dislodging more mucus. This time she added it to the collection on her nasty bandages, instead of letting it run.

"Some birthday you're having, huh?"

Clarke snorted some more. Then she snapped her head up. "How do you know it's my birthday?"

"Well, your dad kind of invited me to the party," she replied, playing with her necklace.

Was it a bird? A...raven perhaps?

"I was told there'd be an old soccer game to watch. I've never seen one before, so I agreed." Another smirk. "Also, free food." Raven noticed where she was looking. She held the necklace out. It was pretty...in its own way. "My boyfriend made this for me. It's a raven. You didn't see him at all, did you? While you were in there?"

"I don't know. We weren't really let out much." _Except to shower. And sometimes not even then._ "What's his name?"

She hesitated a moment before confidently saying, "Finn Collins."

Clarke bristled at that. "The spacewalker is your boyfriend?"

"He's not a bad guy," said Raven with some heat. "Mistakes were made, something you should understand. Besides, I more than made up for that by fixing the damn air recycler, so even if your crazy ass can't appreciate that..."

Clarke flinched and after a brief awkward silence, pushed herself to her feet.

"I should let you get back to it," she said, gesturing to the work bench, not making eye contact.

"Clarke, wait."

She was nearly out of the area when red lights began to flash. A silent alarm.

"There's always something," sighed Raven, not far from her. The intercom beside them buzzed.

"Hey, Raven, you still there?" said an unknown man's voice.

She pressed the button. "Talk to me, Wick."

"You should get down here...and soon."

Raven frowned. "Okay, I'll be there in two."

"Better make it one," was the tense reply.

"That sounded serious," said Clarke nervously.

"I'm sure it's nothing," said Raven, unconvincingly. "Wick's probably just messing with me again."

There was a slight shudder beneath their feet. Definitely _not_ nothing.

They shared a look and then Raven bolted towards the maintenance shaft. Clarke chased after her and Raven pushed her away at the hatch. "There's nothing you can do, Clarke. Just go home. Eat some cake."

"I'm not leaving you," she stubbornly replied, not even sure why she was being so stubborn. She supposed she didn't want to feel completely useless anymore.

"Whatever," grunted Raven as she heaved the solid hatch open, "but don't say I didn't warn-"

A blast of hot air shot past their faces as the old boat rocked. Clarke felt like her face had been scalded.

The boom that followed immediately afterwards knocked them off their feet, sending white spots behind her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a way nicer ending than last time, right? RIGHT?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys do know I don't intend for cliffie's, right? They just mysteriously end up like that...every time.

Ever since Clarke had left her, Lexa had been plagued by bad dreams, full of undefined fears that refused to coalesce into being. As her subconscious continued to deteriorate, she began to toss and turn, muttering and whimpering to herself in a very uncommanderlike way. Finally there was a split second of falling, followed by a jolt. On the ground, she opened her eyes to find herself in the Ark, except everything was hazy and hard to make out. Eventually she realized Clarke was right beside her, but not in a place she recognized and definitely not in her bed. She was on the cold metallic floor, along with another girl who seemed vaguely familiar, and there was an alarming hissing noise that was slowly but surely pulling them nearer as red lights flashed all around. Bits of metal had been dragged off the closest tables and were being sucked into a hole.

"Clarke! Clarke!" said Lexa urgently, shaking the dazed girls shoulder. Lexa straddled her, taking her face in her hands. "Clarke, get up!"

Clarke looked at her with glazed, unresponsive eyes. Her feet were almost over the hole in the floor. Lexa did not want to find out what would happen if Clarke fell down there. She knew all about space now and the vacuum that separated them. Lexa tried to take over her body but was unable to. Clarke had to allow it and she wasn't exactly aware at the moment.

"Clarke!" she yelled, slapping her across the face and wincing at laying violent hands on her. " _Clarke_!"

Finally Clarke looked at her, making eye contact. "Lexa?" Clarke muttered, stirring slightly. The hissing noise was too loud to make out what she said, but Lexa could read lips, blurry as they were. "What happened?" Clarke groaned, placing a bandaged hand to the side of her head.

 _I was going to ask you the same thing_ , she thought in Trigedasleng, wrinkling her nose at the sight. It seemed to be a mixture of blood and snot.

"I don't know, but you need to get up right now!" she shouted, getting off of her and holding out her hand. "Take my hand, Clarke!" Clarke just sort of continued to lay there, groaning. Lexa tried to take over her body again, but again it didn't work. She hated feeling so helpless, unable to simply lift her up and drag her out of there. As Clarke's and the other girls feet made their way over the edge, Lexa did the only thing she could think of in her current state of distress, she leaned in and kissed her. It hadn't been that long ago that they had last kissed, yet it felt like years. The familiar electric thrill went through her, and Clarke lazily responded, wrapping her disgusting bandages around her neck.

When Lexa pulled away, Clarke pouted. Lexa was pleased to note she seemed more aware now.

"Either get up or let me help you get up!"

_Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim._

"So tired," murmured Clarke. "So so tired."

Lexa tightly pressed her lips together. "That's okay, Clarke, just let me help you!"

Clarke nodded, and Lexa was finally able to get into her skin. The disorientation was worse here and Lexa momentarily forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Then she very slowly pulled herself away from the hole in the floor, crawling, as the vacuum continuously tugged at her body. With difficulty she pushed herself to her feet, nearly losing her balance, and turned towards the exit.

 _You can't leave Raven_ , pipped up Clarke.

Lexa knew better than to argue with Clarke and simply dropped back down and grabbed hold under the girls armpits - the state of Clarke's hands made it impossible to get a proper grip on the girl's hands and they slipped several times before she switched positions. They seemed to make no progress at all for the first ten seconds, but it got easier to move the further away they got from the hole. All the while the hissing sound got louder and louder and the ark continued to jostle beneath her, nearly toppling her over and onto Raven on more than one occasion.

As they approached the exit to this area, the girl stirred. Raven blinked the blood out of her eyes, looking up at her. "Clarke? What are you- shit!" She caught sight of the room before her, as the tables themselves were approaching the now increasingly large hole. "What the hell happened?!"

Rather than respond, Lexa focused the last of Clarke's energy on getting out of there. Which was a good thing because only a few seconds after they crossed the threshold, a metal plate similar to the one in the mountain crashed down, sealing off the work area from further depressurization. Lexa shivered at the prospect of Clarke nearly being sucked out into space, at failing yet another love, at being alone and heart broken again.

Exhausted, yet relieved that Clarke was safe, Lexa took a moment to regain her breath, only to slump against the wall as a wave of dizziness engulfed her. Without realizing it, she had left Clarke's body. Both Raven and Lexa came to Clarke's aid. Only Raven was able to help her up though, and Lexa felt a small fluttering of annoyance in her chest.

"Whoa, there, Clarke," said Raven, steadying her on her feet, which were also unsteady. "Let's get the hell out of here! There's no telling if this seal will hold or not!"

They staggered along the creaking corridor until they ran into more people.

"Clarke!" exclaimed an out of breath Jake. Kane and other guards were right behind him. Jake scooped Clarke into his arms, while Kane attempted to do the same to Raven, who was swaying and looked close to the end of her rope too.

"Fuck off," she scowled, swatting a hand at him. "I don't need _your_ help."

Kane looked at her in an irritated manner and said, "We don't have time for this. You can barely stand."

Raven pointed at random to a sturdy black man. "Fine, then let _him_ pick me up."

"Let's _go_!" said Jake, disbelief etched into his features. The man Raven had pointed to stepped forward and scooped her up. The girl smirked sideways at Kane as they finally hurried out of the trembling vicinity. Once they had traversed the rest of the corridor, Kane opened a console on the wall and Jake input some numbers. Another metal plate crashed into place.

Jake started to address the guards. The words became increasingly hard to pick out.

And then Clarke lost consciousness and Lexa was driven back to Earth.

She gasped at the abrupt loss of contact, dropping onto her bed, head in hands. As if today hadn't already been one of the worst of her existence, now there was this other thing to worry about. What was happening on the ark? Would Clarke wake up? Would she survive?

Someone cleared their throat and she whipped her head up to glare at Gustus. Apparently Curtis was useless at keeping unwanted guests out of her quarters. She would need to dispense of his services as soon as possible. Lexa didn't bother demanding why her bodyguard was here. She knew she had been screaming at the top of her lungs as she tried to rouse Clarke. Most likely she had roused half the camp as well. It was a wonder that only Gustus was present, but he was fairly intimidating and few would question his orders.

He stood there like an implacable statue, weathering all storms. "Will Clarke be okay?"

Did this mean he believed her? Or was he just trying to appease her?

He simply observed her in a calm, unconcerned manner, giving little away as to his true feelings. Even though it was hard, Lexa held his gaze.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lip, choking back the sob.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asked astutely, and she knew he was asking the woman, not the commander.

The commander could never show weakness. They couldn't afford to. But Lexa could with those that she trusted.

"No," she whispered, clasping her shaking hands in her lap, willing herself to calm down.

There was a silence in which she imagined she heard the bated breath of her warriors surrounding her tent, waiting to crucify her.

Gustus came closer and knelt, bowing his head. The last time he had done such a thing was when she chose him as her protector. The memory brought a small sad smile to her lips. "I am still yours, commander."

Physical contact was quite desirous and the impulse to reach out and touch him was strong. However, she did not, and instead drew strength from his continued loyalty, coming back into herself.

"Rise, Gustus," she said with nary a tremble.

He did so, stepping back to give her a respectful amount of space, waiting for his next order. She obliged him.

"Dismiss Curtis and then return. There is more that I wish for you to know."

It was dark in here and hard to make out, but she was pretty sure he cocked an eyebrow as if to say, 'more? How could there be more?' Then he nodded and did as she bade. Just like Anya, she had only told Indra and Gustus about Clarke's existence, nothing more. She hoped he would be true to his word once he learned of Clarke's home in the sky.

Ever since her mother died, she had lost her home and had yet to replace it. She had a house in Polis, but it was not the same thing, it didn't make her feel safe and secure and above all _loved_. Costia had come close to giving her those feelings again, but even with her something had been lacking. And now there was Clarke, who was exactly what she needed, and may or may not survive the coming hours...

Lexa called out to Clarke only to be met with nothingness, and the fear and anxiety tried to claw its way back in but she wouldn't let it. Whatever came next, she needed to be cool and collected. She needed to be the commander, and _only_ the commander. Emotion had no place in her world and would just serve to get her killed all the faster.

* * *

Even though she was weary and her eyes burned terribly, she knew she would not be getting back to sleep tonight, so instead left her tent to stargaze. During their acquaintance, Clarke had pointed out various different constellations to her. Lexa had little interest in those, and instead searched for a moving star, hoping to spot the ark passing by, still intact. There was nothing as far as she could tell, and her spirits plummeted. She sighed to herself and moved through the camp, trying to enjoy the revelry still ongoing. Graciously - or as graciously as she could manage - she accepted the gratitude of several of the bled and their lovers, once more trying not to be bitter about their reunions. She wondered how thankful they would be once they learned of her deal with their sworn enemies. Somehow she knew they would be the first ones to attack, or at the very least, rally the others against her with tales of unspeakable sorrow.

Lexa lit a torch and entered the makeshift stable, scanning the oat strewn area for Athena. Her horse was lying down between two standing ones, breathing heavily, clearly in deep sleep. She wasn't surprised by this arrangement. After the ordeal Athena had been through, she needed to feel safe and secure before relaxing enough to rest and heal her injuries. And injuries she did have. The side flank visible to Lexa was cauterized in a few locations where the reapers had jabbed at her. Faint specs of blood still dotted her white hair. All and all though, the stable hand had done a fine job tending to her horse and she would have to thank them later with a choice cut of meat. Assuming there was a later...

Satisfied that Athena was on the mend, she turned to leave, only to sense a familiar presence. The smile grew before she actually laid eyes on Clarke. When she did, she dropped the torch in the dirt as she rushed to embrace her.

"You're okay," she said happily, as she pulled back, cupping the side of her face with both hands.

"Yeah, never better," said Clarke groggily. Her hands had been re-bandaged into a much more manageable way, so that grip was less impeded. They also no longer made Lexa queasy, which was much appreciated. "Tonight's been a real blast."

Lexa found a sconce for the torch and then settled into a small pile of hay with Clarke, holding her from behind. She kissed Clarke's shoulder muttering, "What happened?"

"The ark is old, Lexa, and fixing the oxygen system taxed its strength too much. Raven thought she had bypassed this issue by integrating it into a different system, but she was wrong. It couldn't withstand the added load, and it blew up, leaving a sizable hole behind. The automatic seals have failed in the North-West quadrant."

Quickly, she processed this, and even quicker she became alarmed. "What does that mean for your people?"

She hesitated before responding. "We're running out of oxygen...and fast. We have to come down."

Lexa assumed Clarke would be enthused about the prospect, but she sounded far from it. "What's wrong?"

"There's only enough space on the drop ships for a third of our people," she said dully. "Whoever doesn't make it on will die up there."

Her breath hitched at this revelation. She fought to keep her voice unaffected. "And what do you have to do to get on one of them?"

"The essential people, like doctors, engineers and farmers have already been given a spot. Same with kids under eighteen and their parents. Naturally, there's some overlap. The rest will be randomly chosen by an algorithm."

Lexa did her best to stay in tune with Clarke's feelings, narrowly avoiding a surge of giddiness.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, Clarke," she said softly, stroking her arm.

Clarke sighed and shuffled around to face her. They just stared at one another for a time, drinking in their continued existences. "I have to go back now." Lexa protested by holding her tighter. Clarke smiled faintly. "I don't _want_ to, Lexa, but I have to. I've got to make sure we don't end up landing in Europe or," she made a face, " _Canada_."

Because of Clarke, Lexa had a vague notion of these places, and knew that Canada was to the North of her location. It sounded like it was not too far from the Ice Nation, which she had heard was perpetually cold and difficult to survive in. An everlasting winter. She could only imagine how much worse Canada would be. If there were any people there, they probably all lived in ice huts.

Clarke kissed her, the blissful contact ending all too soon. "Try to get some rest, Lexa," she whispered before disappearing.

The weariness of her bones kept her in place and she sat there in the hay watching Athena's nostrils flare in and out, and in and out...

The next thing she knew there was shouting nearby and an obvious commotion. She sprung to her feet, hay flying out behind her, and dashed from the stable, hand on her dagger. Everyone in the vicinity was looking up into the morning sun, pointing. A few were yelling, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"

Heart pounding, she raised a hand to her forehead and looked where they were looking, and indeed, something was on fire and fast approaching. She was about to jump on a horse and head out when she realized there were _two_ somethings coming down, very close together. One was much smaller than the other and getting further and further apart. The small drop ship was heading towards the dead zone full of mines and scavengers. The large drop ship was going to land not too far from the current location of the Ice Nation's camp.

Both options filled her with dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, she's almost on the ground! It only took seventeen chapters to get her there! (I had been estimating 15...so not too far off).


	17. Chapter 17

While they were violently shuddering through the lower atmosphere, (Clarke and the rest doing their best to remain calm) Lexa popped into existence in front of her. Clarke had attempted to garner her attention beforehand but her companion had taken her advice and rested. She thought perhaps they needed to figure out a way to reach each other even in that state of unconsciousness, beyond vague and unhelpful nightmares that is.

Clarke was currently seated in-between her mom and dad, holding on to each others hands, silently praying for a safe and uneventful landing. She never thought she'd be here, and though the circumstances were somber, they were also thrilling and life affirming.

Despite the situation, Clarke couldn't help but smirk at the state Lexa's hair was in. Various lengths of hay stuck out of the frazzled mess at random intervals. Her only regret was that she was not the cause of this disarray. Otherwise she looked her usual self, clothed once more in armour and a hard demeanour.

Not wasting any time, Lexa got straight down to business. "Which drop ship are you in, Clarke?" she asked trying to get a better look at Clarke's surroundings.

Their 'one hundred' consisted of delinquents and outcasts, that it is to say people who had tried to save the ark but inevitably failed, most likely killing everyone. Jaha and Kane had finally gotten their long sought for chaos when word spread across the speakers that the ark would be out of air within the next twenty-four hours, and that only a third of the population could go to Earth, to _maybe_ not die there instead. Needless to say the once applauded saviours were now condemned for their failure and were lucky to be alive and have made it onto this drop ship in one piece. None more so than Raven, who flat out refused to even get on, blaming herself, and herself alone, for the end of humanity. If not for Finn's timely appearance, Clarke would have been forced to knock her out and drag her on board against her wishes before a horde of frantic people overtook them.

Averting her eyes, smirk falling off, Clarke shook her head.

"You don't know which one you're in?" Lexa said somewhat incredulously.

Clarke shook her head again, sighing. "I'll tell you," she muttered below the level of hearing on this thundering tin can, "but first I need you to promise me something."

Lexa raised an eyebrow before nodding curtly.

"Promise me you'll do exactly as I say."

It was obvious that Lexa was unaccustomed to taking orders, and yet for some strange reason, she usually acquiesced to Clarke's demands.

Again she nodded, though her grip had tightened on the hilt of her sword.

"I'm in the smaller one, but if you're able to, [and it seems like you are best on your attire] I want you to go to the other one and make sure they're okay first. There's over eight hundred of my people on that ship, Lexa, and they have no idea what's awaiting them upon their arrival. So many are going to die on the ark, I couldn't bear it if they perished too."

Finally being on the same plane of existence, with mere hours separating them, it was almost physically painful to make this request of her. Judging by the surge of dismay and Lexa's tight lips and rigid posture, she was feeling the same way. All she did was gulp and nod once more.

"Where is it landing?"

Lexa hesitated and vaguely replied, "The forest." Before Clarke could question her further, "You're headed towards the Dead Zone, Clarke." For many reasons, Clarke did not like the sounds of that. Lexa had spoken of the place once before. If you had any common sense, you didn't go there. "Head due West. Watch your step and remain vigilant. Your ship will be an unavoidable beacon. When someone approaches you, or claims to need assistance, _do not help them_. Shoot them. It is a harsh but necessary precaution. The exiles are scavengers and will do whatever they must to survive. They employ tricks at every turn. Do not trust a word they say." Lexa's eyes softened, showcasing the private look reserved just for Clarke. Yearning for contact and reassurance, she nearly let go of her mother's hand and offered it up to Lexa. But Finn, who was sitting across from her, was already watching her with some interest, so she didn't. "Be safe, Clarke," Lexa said so softly, Clarke felt it more than heard it, the warmth and concern drifting over her like a gentle breeze, soothing a bit of mental fatigue.

A minute later they arrived on Earth, in heart thumping, head banging, tongue biting fashion.

 _What a ride_ , she thought to herself with a tiny smirk, as she swallowed the bit of blood she had produced. They landed in the desert, which surely cushioned their fall to a degree. She could only imagine how much rougher the landing was for the others.

No one moved or spoke for several seconds and then two of the younger people present began to whoop enthusiastically, scrambling out of their red restraints and running over to the hatch. Before losing his power, her father had pardoned the delinquents of their various crimes (some of the ones here were murderers). Since he was no longer Chancellor, they didn't listen to a word he said as he too got to his feet. They simply dashed down the slightly crooked ladder (they had sunk into the sand at a bit of an angle) and out of sight.

Clarke went after them before her parents could stop her. If they weren't careful, they might get themselves blown up...assuming of course she was correct and didn't immediately die from the rampant radiation levels. By the time she caught up to them they had already activated the lift and the massive door was slowly but surely descending. Sand began to blow in within seconds and she feared a sand storm was in progress, which would delay and all but ensure scavengers found and surrounded them, ready to pick them off one by one as supplies dwindled and they were forced to evacuate.

Thankfully she was wrong and the irritating stuff she was rubbing out of her eyes was simply due to a sudden gust of wind. Needless to say, her first breaths of Earth air with her own body were far from pleasant, and already she longed for the earthy and familiar smell of Lexa's camp...of Lexa's bed. When the door was fully lowered, the three delinquents looked out at the never ending sea of sand in dismay. A heat wave hit them, and the sun momentarily blinded. Clarke raised a hand to her forehead to shield from the unforgiving rays.

" _This_ is Earth?" said the one with a buzzcut. "Isn't there supposed to be actual earth?" He knelt down and scooped up a bit of a sand pile, letting it slip through his fingers. "Not this yellow crap."

The other delinquent with the nasty scar above his left eyebrow smacked him upside the head. "That's sand, idiot. Didn't you pay attention in Earth Skills at _all_? Or were you too busy checking out that hot blonde?"

Considering they had been in completely different sections of the ark, Clarke was positive they weren't talking about her, and she rolled her eyes when they invariably noticed her presence and checked her out. Before they could chat her up or whatever it is they intended to do, Wells made an appearance on the ladder. When he saw she was still there, he looked relieved. The relief was short lived when he saw _where_ they were.

Sand was blowing in again, so without being asked, she closed the door, to the annoyance of the brain trust. "Hey, what did you do that for? We want to go explore!"

She held back the eye roll this time. "We're in the middle of a desert and you don't have any supplies with you and you don't have any idea where you are either. You'll get lost within the hour. Dehydrated within two. And dead within forty-eight. Might want to wait a second before charging off to nowhere."

"And I suppose you have a map or something, princess?" said the guy with the short hair.

"I know we need to go West," she calmly replied, standing her ground.

"How the hell do you know that?" asked scar face.

"You always follow the setting sun when you're in the desert," she smoothly lied. "It's the fastest way out...according to what I've read anyway."

Wells gave her a slightly bewildered look and the other two seemed reluctantly satisfied with that response. And now that they knew this, the two amigos unstrapped two supply bags and prepared to leave again, amongst a growing number of people, Jaha and her mother included.

"Stop boys," said Jaha, coming closer. "We won't be leaving until everyone is ready to go. It could be dangerous out there. There will be safety in numbers."

"We don't take orders from you anymore, _Chancellor_ ," said the one with the scar. "We can do as we please."

"If you're going to be foolhardy, you're not going to waste our limited supplies. Hand them over."

"Screw you," said buzzcut, hitting the button for the door.

Jaha reached for the button but scar face blocked his path. They had no guards with them, no one with any real fighting prowess to stop these morons. She wasn't sure if there were even any guns in here either, making Lexa's directions hard to follow.

Clarke was pissed at their stupidity and let them know it. "Didn't you listen to anything I just said!" she yelled, pushing towards buzzcut, edging him away from the open door. "You're lucky to be alive right now! Why are you tempting fate?!"

"Because!" roared scar face, who was out in the sand now. "We're finally free!"

Then he ran straight ahead, whooping gaily...and nothing bad happened to him. No one shot at him, no explosions, no nothing. This prompted buzzcut and several other delinquents to push past her and out into the scorching heat. Some jumped around, some dived right into the sand from the drop ship, and some squatted and simply rubbed the hot sand through their fingertips, grinning. Apparently she had worried for nothing and now some of the adults were coming out too to get their first taste of Earth.

She however remained inside and watched as Sinclair contacted the ark, to let them know they had safely arrived and that all was not lost, humanity would live on, and they could die in peace. She listened as he enquired about the other drop ship, to find out if they too had made contact. They hadn't.

Spurred on by this knowledge, she immediately searched for her own backpack, untying it from the bindings on the wall as soon as she located it among the masses. Others followed suit and within twenty minutes they were ready to head out.

When she looked around however, she couldn't find Raven, Finn or her father, so she squished past those present to gain access to the ladder and climbed through the still open hatch. Raven was still in her seat and had refused to even unbuckle. Her dad and Finn were quietly talking to her. The girl kept quiet and would not make eye contact with any of them.

"We're almost set to go," said Clarke. "Why don't you two find your stuff while I keep Raven company."

Finn and her dad shared a look and then left, her dad placing a hand on her shoulder beforehand saying, "Good luck."

Clarke walked over and sat across from Raven, in the seat her father had come down in, hands on the straps of her backpack.

Neither said anything for awhile and the incoherent (but no doubt inspiring) words of Jaha drifted between them.

"Well? Where's the speech?" snapped Raven finally, glaring at her, arms crossed.

Clarke continued to sit there, simply staring back, employing a tactic Lexa often used to unnerve her subordinates and elicit a response.

"Would you stop that?! It's fucking creepy!"

And still she said nothing.

"You've got issues, Clarke, and they're way above my pay grade. Just go the fuck away!"

Raven was fidgeting badly now, hand hovering over the release for her restraints.

"Fine then! If you won't! I will!"

She clicked the clasp around her middle and stood up, stalking over to the hatch. Then she whirled around and stomped back, towering over her. "You shouldn't have saved my life! You should have left me there to die with the others!"

"And what would that have accomplished?" asked Clarke as she serenely held Raven's furious gaze.

"It would've stopped me from feeling like this!"

"Like what?" said Clarke, having a pretty good idea already. The gloom and guilt were ever crawling in her skin.

Raven clutched at her chest as she willed the tears not to fall. "Like I can't breathe! Like I'm up there taking my last breaths with them!" Her lip trembled as her voice broke, piercing Clarke's heart. "I killed Wick. I killed them all."

Clarke stood up and Raven jumped back, avoiding her reach. "There's no one single person to blame here, Raven. Definitely not you." She licked her dry lips, closing her eyes for the strength to admit this. "I'm the one who put this whole thing into motion. If anyone killed us all, it was me."

Raven blinked in surprise.

"They were going to kill my dad and I couldn't handle that so I freaked out on some guards and practically twisted my dad's arm to break into the communications mainframe and play the message. He wasn't going to do it and risk others dying for him. Without my interference, none of this would have happened. You'd still be a zero g mechanic and I'd still be in lock up...and we all would've died a year from now. Friends, children, babies. Everyone."

Raven flinched at the harsh truth of her words. Clarke placed a hand on her forearm and Raven let her.

"They've got a chance now to live the way we were always meant to live. To be free. And you're a large part of that." She squeezed her arm to stifle whatever Raven was about to say. "So yes, sacrifices were made and it's terrible, and you _feel_ terrible, and I know, I _really_ do," she paused to swallow the turmoil, "but we'll get through it together." Clarke forced a smile. "Because that's what friends are for."

Raven scoffed but didn't pull away.

"Our people still need you Raven. You might not think so, and _they_ might not think so, but they _do_. You're brilliant and this world is harsh, and they need you to keep them safe, to keep on surviving. You owe that much to all those that didn't."

There was a somber silence for a time as they grieved for the soon to be departed.

Finally Raven rolled her eyes. "Knew there'd be a speech."

Clarke half smirked and Raven half smirked and they went down to join the others, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good thing Raven doesn't swing that way, or Lexa might have had some competition. ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chaps pretty intense. Hope you enjoy!

Cage paced his white cell, still furious at his imprisonment, for being treated no better than one of the savages. His father would pay. The only question that remained was _how_. An answer started to form upon Carl's reappearance. As much as Cage wanted to hate him too for his betrayal, he found it difficult. They had been through a lot together over the years, had shared a lot of intimate moments. Still, he found a way to hold on to his anger.

"What do you want?!" he snapped as Carl closed the door behind him.

Carl observed him calmly for a moment before saying, "There's been a development."

"What sort of development?"

"Drop ships from the space stations have come down. One is only seventeen miles away."

That stopped Cage in his tracks. He marched straight up to Carl. "And what's being done about it?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'?!" demanded Cage.

"Your father has given no orders."

"But that's ridiculous!" exploded Cage. "We need to know what we're dealing with!"

"I agree," replied Carl, the tiniest bit of amusement in his eyes. His stupid, beautiful eyes. "That's why I'm here."

Cage's gaze flickered to the camera ever watching him before going back to Carl's.

"We can talk freely, I've looped the feed."

Cage smiled at this revelation, at Carl remaining loyal to him. "I want you to go on a recon mission to see if they survived the fall and the radiation exposure."

Carl nodded and then hesitated, a rarity for him. Cage waited for the blow. "The ship is in close proximity to the smaller encampment of savages."

 _Be careful_.

"Then you better stay out of sight."

They shared a softened look and then Carl turned to leave. A pang of fear shot through him like it always did when Carl left the safety of the bunker. He grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a lingering kiss, cursing himself for his weakness, but too wrapped up in the moment to really care.

* * *

After giving a rousing speech ending in her people's war chant, they marched. At the forefront of her army she rode Maximus, a black as night stallion; a stark contrast to Athena and the bright and sunny Autumn day. She had forgone his fearful war adornments - the Ice Nation would not be frightened and she didn't want to scare the Sky People either. Just behind her and looking equally fierce, were Gustus, Indra and Anya. For the time being they would continue to follow her, just as her other enthusiastic warriors were, but after this final battle, their loyalties might be tested. She pushed the thought aside and focused on the task ahead.

What had made overcoming the Ice Nation so difficult, was not strength or lack of numbers, it was just that (until now) she hadn't been _trying_ to kill everyone (no matter how much she had wished it upon her madness at Costia's slaying). She had wanted them to fight _for_ her, to share supplies and skills, to learn more about the other culture of her long neglected clan and they vice versa. Their location had always made them inaccessible as well as inhospitable...their queen most of all. Granted, Lexa was not faultless in these clan wars, in thousands of deaths. After all, she had all but asked for them.

She had begun with simply talking with representatives of the other eleven clans, to give them an idea of her vision of unity, peace and prosperity like never before. She didn't want to change their cultures, or force them to do things her way, she just wanted peace among their own people so that they could finally pool their efforts and take down the real enemy: the mountain. A couple had been immediately receptive to this proposal, others wanted some time to think about it, to confer with their people; and four of them gave no reply at all, which of course concerned her. Two of those clans had continued to 'concern' her to this very day.

But no longer.

Lexa was finished with negotiations, with endless prattle that led nowhere new. The queen had made her decision time and time again when she continued to defy Lexa - none more so than the last time. They would never fall in line and see reason. The queen would never willingly give up any measure of her power. She would never stand down and leave Trikru land, never stop attacking helpless villagers, rabid as the reapers themselves.

This was the only way.

She did not cherish the thought of slaughtering a large number of her own people, but she would be lying if she said a small part of her was not looking forward to reaping the benefits, that is to say, finally capturing the queen and cutting off her head.

For Costia. For Clarke. For herself.

The Ice Nation would fall.

* * *

Despite her earlier mental assurances, she was now somewhat ill at ease. In order to get to The Ice Nation's camp, they had to first pass through the landing site of the Sky People. They were nearly at the location of the drop ship and yet there had been no sight or sound of either the Ice Nation or the Sky People. Based on her time with Clarke, she knew they were not the most adept at keeping quiet. A terrible thought crossed her mind, but she would not give it voice until she was certain.

Apparently Gustus was likewise unnerved because he now rode beside her, eyes ever scanning for threats, hand ever ready to unsheathe sword.

They came into the massive clearing caused by the drop ship itself upon impact. Dozens of trees had been uprooted and twisted beyond repair where the ship had smashed through them and proceeded to skip a few times, like a stone over water. Her keen eye noted glistening splotches of blood here and there in the dirt and stiffened, raising a hand to stop her army from progressing further. She feared that they had been slaughtered. Then she saw the remains of a deer that had been too slow to evade the cataclysm and lowered her hand, relief escaping her lips.

The closer Lexa got, the more she was convinced the ship was one of the largest man made things she had ever seen in her life. Only the Great Wheel could compare with this immensity. Her eyes quickly roved across and up the behemoth structure before scouting the too still area. A multitude of various sized bootprints could be seen every which way. There was no uniformity, no universal direction to suggest the Sky People had taken their things and left. They appeared to have simply been exploring. The question was, where were they now?

Her eyes flickered to the ship's see through doors. Could they still be inside? Had they come into contact with an Ice Nation's scout and retreated to safety? Or had one of the Sky People's scouts seen her own army approaching?

There was only one way to know for sure, and that involved going straight up to the ship, and as Clarke would say, 'knocking'. This idea filled her with a sudden dread and she again stopped her army from their approach. They were hundreds of feet yet from the ship but they had spread out now in the clearing, exposing them. She knew the Sky People had weapons like the Mountain Men and she didn't want to spook them into opening fire. Though she had given explicit orders not to attack back should this happen, there was no guarantee that all of her warriors would listen, or remember her words in the heat of battle.

Lexa turned in her saddle to confer with her council.

"I do not like this," frowned Indra with a scowl towards the ship.

"There is something amiss here," agreed Gustus. "I recommend caution."

"One of us must make a move," said Anya. "We can't sit here all day. The Ice Nation is sure to know of our presence and planning accordingly."

Anya's words reminded her of the fateful day her secret first came to light, and of chess.

' _The rules don't apply to the queen_ ', Clarke had said.

She dipped her head at their council and then jerked it towards a number of warriors with roughly hewn rectangular shields. They formed a fairly impenetrable vanguard before making their approach. Nothing happened after crossing the first one hundred feet. And still nothing happened when they reached the doors.

"Look inside!" she called. "Tell me what you see!"

Their leader, Dywn, lowered his shield and did as she bade. He half turned. "There are many people in here!" he called back. "Women and children too!" he added as if they did not qualify as 'people'.

Again, a wave of relief stole over her. Clarke's people were safe. "Push and hold the button on the side there!" she ordered, remembering the 'intercom' system they had on the Ark. Her companions shared a look. "Tell them we mean no harm! That we've come in peace!"

Dwyn didn't move for a time. "What is a 'button?'" he returned, facing her.

Lexa stifled the urge to roll her eyes even as she tried to explain the concept to him. These sorts of things were so much easier with Clarke. "It should be just below a circular series of holes!"

The long bearded warrior searched for awhile before finding the button in question and speaking the words into the intercom.

Even from here she could tell he hadn't let it go. "Release the button!"

Dwyn did so and everyone waited, and waited, and waited some more. No response was heard in this unbearable stillness.

Had Dwyn managed to bungle this simple task? Was the intercom broken? Or were they truly choosing to ignore them? Perhaps they were just frightened?

Technically Lexa had done as Clarke asked. She had made sure the Sky People were safe. But leaving them here alone to go face the Ice Nation one last time didn't feel right. There was something else niggling at the back of her neck, raising the hairs. She ordered the warriors to retreat from the doors, hopeful this might lessen their fears and bring someone out to talk to her.

As she debated what to do, Clarke's words flashed through her mind again and suddenly she understood. Before she could order the horn to be blown, shouts of 'Azgeda' sounded from somewhere near the back of the pack, growing ever closer, pushing them forward and further into the devastated clearing with alarming speed, so that very soon she was near the warriors with shields. And it wasn't a moment too soon because a barrage of gunfire rang out from above, piercing Maximus, and dropping them both to the ground amid a spray of blood. Half of the warriors in front of her had already been killed and she dove towards the nearest one, blood flying from her face and armour, hastily wrenching the shield out of his dying hands and crouching behind it even as more bullets bounced right off, inches from her head.

She had to keep squatting forward to avoid being crushed by the surging and falling warriors from behind as well as being shot from those up above. By her estimation, the Sky People must have hid atop the ship until a signal was given and then opened fire. The very people she was trying to protect were now slaughtering her own.

"Back! Push back!" she tried to yell above the noise and confusion to no effect. Her voice was drowned out in the chaos.

From her limited vantage point, she cocked her head sideways to find Anya doing much the same as she was. They nodded grimly to one another and continued to head forward as fast as their hunched positions allowed. Ironically enough, the safest place to be right now was closer to the ship where the gunners could not get a clear line of sight. Bullets continued to rain down on them and Lexa could only imagine how many were dead already and how many more were yet to die.

She cursed herself then for doing the precise thing she swore she would never do again: underestimating the queen's wiles. The Ice Nation leader could not have had more than an hour or two to make peaceful contact, gain their trust, warn them of the impending threat of Lexa's army, create a battle strategy together, and prepare accordingly. If Lexa didn't hate the ice queen so much, she might have been impressed with the swiftness in which this was all achieved. As it was, she was praying all the harder that she would make it out of this fiasco alive and finally give the queen what she deserved.

Her racing heart eased slightly as they entered the sanctuary provided by the shadow of the towering ship. Indra and Gustus had not followed them here. She could only hope they had escaped a different way. With their backs pressed against the wall, they watched in dismay as their people continued to be pushed forward by persons unseen and gunned down. Feeling helpless, she nevertheless whirled and jabbed at the intercom.

"Tell your people to stand down!" she ordered. "We are not the enemy! You have been lied to!"

No response.

"We came here on behalf of Thelonious Jaha!" She figured using Clarke's name in this matter would only make the situation worse. "To protect your people from the Ice Nation!"

This time there was movement from within the dimly lit quarters. A long dark haired girl dodged the grasp of a taller, somewhat muscular man and manoeuvred around the cowering people and over to the doors. She jabbed a finger at the wall before the man could stop her.

"How do you know Jaha?" she asked suspiciously.

That was quite the loaded question and she didn't have anywhere near a proper length of time to respond, not that the girl gave her a chance before further interrogation.

"And why isn't he, or any of our people with you?"

Lexa did her best not to snarl at her as she said, "They were injured in the fall! They could not come themselves!"

The girl just stared at her and Lexa hit the wall in frustration, startling her. No doubt the sticky blood splattered across her face was not helping matters. The man was attempting to pull the girl away and Lexa panicked at losing her last shot at stopping this madness.

Clarke appeared a moment later, viewing everything in horror through the reflection of the doors.

She spun around, "Oh my God." She spun back and stared at the people and spat out, "That's Bellamy Blake...so the girl he's trying to stop must be his sister, Octavia!"

"Lexa, we can't stay here!" hissed Anya urgently, as she deflected yet another arrow with the shield she was using to protect both of them. "The Ice Nation will break through our ranks any moment now!"

Lexa took a second to compose and soften herself before looking the girl straight in the eye and saying, "Please let me speak to Marcus Kane, Octavia."

Octavia shared a brief, yet intense look and then nodded, breaking away from her brother again and quickly disappearing from sight.

"Come! We must go!" intoned Anya.

"Maybe you _should_ go," said Clarke nervously, eyeing the increasingly closer fighting.

"I won't abandon my people, Clarke."

Anya grabbed Lexa's arm, turning her so that they were closely facing one another. "Lexa, Clarke can't save you! We have to save ourselves! The battle is lost!"

Just as they were about to leave, an out of breath Kane appeared and said, "Alexandria, I presume?"

She clenched her jaw at being addressed so informally, but nodded.

"Eira said you might...what was the phrase...'try to beg for the mercy you never bestowed on her people'."

"Eira is a liar," she returned, trying to keep the bite out of her tone and failing. "She will say anything to gain one's trust. She has tricked you."

 _As she has tricked me in the past_.

Kane smirked. "So tell me...why should we trust anything _you_ say? For all we know you captured and tortured our people for information."

"Does any of this seem right to you?!" demanded Octavia, gesturing angrily outside. "They never attacked us! We opened fire first!" She glared at her brother. "Bell, tell him! Tell him this isn't right!"

Finally Bellamy spoke up. "She's right, Chancellor," he said, crossing his arms. "This isn't adding up."

"And if your instincts are wrong," replied Kane, still surveying Lexa with his soulless eyes, "you've doomed all of us."

She stared back unflinchingly. Clarke was in her ear, desperately whispering. Lexa flashed to Clarke's position in the desert for a split second to see there was a group of people staring at her strange behaviour, muttering amongst themselves.

Back at the drop ship Lexa raised an eyebrow and said, "Your mother, Vera, is the keeper of the Eden tree, a symbol of hope and faith. Your faith will not be misplaced in me, Marcus Kane."

Kane started at that, clenching teeth. "All things Jaha could have told you under duress."

"For fuck's sake!" roared Clarke, stomping, looking like she was about to charge the doors like a blood thirsty pauna. She gave him 'the finger' instead. "You're a fucking idiot! I wish I was here right now so I could kick your fucking ass back into space!" She turned to the side, looking sheepish. "Sorry, dad!"

Clarke's outrage almost had Lexa wedging her sword between the doors so she could pry it open and repeatedly stab the uncooperative man.

Octavia shared similar sentiments, blowing up in his face. "Jaha floated my mom just for giving birth to me! And even I can see this is more fucked up than that!"

Bellamy as well as several other men had surrounded Kane now, boxing him in by the doors. "Make the call," warned Bellamy. "Tell them to stop shooting."

Kane glared at everyone around him and then lifted a walkie talkie to his mouth. "This is Chancellor Kane..." he looked to Lexa, holding her gaze for what seemed like an interminable length of time, "stand down. Stand down right now."

Abruptly the shooting stopped, replaced with the clash of weapons and death cries. Lexa nodded at Kane once before charging back into the fray, back into the stench of death. Hopping over the piles of littered bodies, she raised her sword and voice as she dodged the first blow from a hefty shield, and killed her man, slashing across the momentary exposed flesh of his side. She chanted their war cry as loudly as she could after she killed another two shielded men by stabbing at their feet, putting them off balance so that she could quickly hack and bring them down.

Anya was right beside her fighting for all her worth. She killed someone in spectacular fashion - practically decapitating them with their own shield - and then raised the cry further until it swept through the pulsing crowd and became a living, breathing entity, giving them strength and the will to go on.

Spirits redoubled, the remaining warriors pushed back against the metal wall of Azgeda with a bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit.
> 
> Lexa's coming for you bitch queen. You better watch out!
> 
> FYI, Eira means 'snow' in welsh.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is also intense. Enjoy!

By the time Lexa was charging towards all of the fighting, future uncertain, Clarke was likewise sprinting. Stopping to talk with Lexa had placed her near the back of the pack, but she quickly reclaimed and surpassed her previous spot at the front. Voices called after her. She heeded none of them and continued to slip and stagger through the too hot sand, sweat pouring off of her already drenched body. The weight of her backpack was dragging her down too much, so she tossed that aside and started up the biggest dune they had come across on this unpleasant trek, barely keeping her footing.

Her lungs were searing at the top and her throat was severely parched, but she ignored her discomfort and pushed further and further ahead of her people. The faint hope that the end of the desert would soon be in sight vanished as the seemingly endless golden hills stretched on into the horizon. Random parts of rusting structures popped out here and there in the distance. Someone else might have taken an interest in them, but she couldn't have cared less and hardly even paid them a glance. The exhaustion was setting in fast and she knew she could not keep going for much longer and that she had already pushed herself too far as it was.

An image of a circling group of big birds popped into her mind. Something or someone had died out here a few miles back. For all she knew, they had been acting as madly as she, disregarding all the warning signs of their body's limits until it was too late. Clarke came to a hunched over stop, deep pulls of air reinvigorating her burning muscles and sending the dizziness away before she collapsed. Even half a minute more would have seen her sprawled in the sand, helpless as a newborn baby. There was still so far to go to get to Lexa and by then...well, she didn't even want to think about it. A single tear fell, leaving her emotion in the sand. More dark spots would have followed if she hadn't been so dehydrated.

When she heard someone approaching, she forced herself into a standing position, running her fingers through her clinging mop of hair and out of her blood shot eyes. She tensed, readying herself for a fight. Then the familiar form of Wells swam into view, distorted by the heat waves rolling past, but recognizable all the same. Clarke relaxed, taking a final deep breath to steady herself before he spoke.

"Clarke," he rasped, hand clutching at his side. Her bag fell from limp fingers. "What...did you...do that...for?"

She was drained, both physically and mentally, and didn't much feel like explaining herself. Still, she had treated him very poorly over the course of the last day, and yet he continued to look out for her best interests and stand by her. She decided he deserved to know the truth, the whole truth. If he didn't believe her, well, that was his own problem. She picked up her bag, swearing it had gotten five times heavier all of a sudden, like Wells had stuffed it with sand, and pulled out a half depleted water bottle. Clarke took a lengthy drag and then held it out to an equally glistening Wells. Then she stiffly walked a short ways over to a somewhat shaded bit of sand, plopped down, and began her tale, her reality.

* * *

Once the Skaikru had stopped gunning her people down, Lexa's devastated army was able to get a foothold against their foes. They fought so fiercely that the tide soon turned and Azgeda's numbers began to thin out to more equal, manageable levels. She had been cut a number of times, in a number of places, but the bloodlust and excitement dulled the pain and drove her ever forward, one with her blade.

So focused on her various assailants was she, that she didn't immediately notice the lithe shape of the queen ascending her snow white horse, preparing to flee. When she did, Lexa quickly carved a path through five warriors and took after her. With no other horse in sight to give chase on, the queen would escape if she didn't do something drastic. Luckily, Lexa noted a bloodied spear off to the side and scooped it up as she pursued her quarry on foot until the sounds of battle became distant and indistinct.

With only one chance at this, she wanted to take her time before releasing, but she couldn't, the queen would be out of range soon. She prayed for a swift and sure hand as she took aim and flinging the spear at the queen with all her might. The point missed its mark, instead piercing the flank of the horse. The queen was tossed forward even more violently than she had herself, colliding with the ground hard and rolling some feet away.

Lexa was encroaching on her territory even before the spear had punctured flesh and was soon impaling the dying animal and putting it out of its misery. Next she stomped on Eira's hand, kicking away the recently unsheathed sword and punched her across the face for good measure with an armoured glove. The queen fell flat on her back and Lexa drove a savage boot onto Eira's chest, to wind even more and incapacitate further. Then she held the point of her own crimson sword to the side of the delicate neck, preparing once and for all to do away with the devil woman.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," she somberly intoned before drawing both arms back, intending to decapitate her as she had decapitated Costia. A surge of emotion swept through her in the final moments before ending the queen's life, bringing a very sweaty Clarke to her side. She had wrapped material around her head, presumably to keep the sun and sand out of her eyes and mouth as much as possible.

Eira caught her breath somehow and wheezily said, "Kill me and you'll never know the truth about your lover."

Caught off guard, Lexa stilled her sword mid swing. She stared hard at the striking dark haired woman before replacing the tip of razor sharp steel to supple skin, drawing blood.

 _Truth_? Lexa wanted to scoff. _What do you know of truth_?

"What truth?" her mouth asked without her consent, curiousity getting the better of her common sense.

The queen smiled a perfect smile save for the bloody gums and busted open lip. "The truth about what _really_ happened to her."

"What do you mean?" she frowned. "You killed her."

"Did I?" replied the queen, bright eyes flashing. "Or did I only want you to _think_ that? I've found that the _idea_ of something can be just as powerful as the act itself."

"You sent me her head," scowled Lexa, raising her arms once more, tired of this nonsense. She would not be deceived by Eira, not this time, not ever again. "Hardly just an idea."

" _A_ head. I sent you _a_ head." The irksome smile returned. "Why do you think I mutilated it so much?"

Doubt, that most troublesome of creatures crept into her fast beating heart, stilling her hands anew.

"Don't listen to her, Lexa," pleaded Clarke, who had tugged the cloth away from her mouth so that her voice was not muffled. "She knows she's lost. She's just messing with you. Biding time."

Even though Clarke was in her head, Lexa barely heard her above the rush of blood pounding in her veins. "The tattoo matched Costia's, it was-"

"A forgery," interrupted the queen. "A well done forgery, but a forgery all the same. Costia's still alive, Lexa," said Eira earnestly, "and only _I_ know where she is."

The words crashed against her skull with crippling force, making her hands tremble violently, dampening her nerve.

"So the choice is yours," pressed on the queen, "claim your misplaced vengeance or find your long lost love."

"You said it yourself, Lexa, she's a liar! All she does is lie! You can't trust anything she says!"

' _Those who are about to die will say anything_ '. Indra's wise words from a long time ago stirred within her briefly before the doubt and anxiety returned in full force. Indecision reined, and Lexa stood there, poised to attack, but trembling too badly to make a move. The queen continued to study her, making no attempts to get up or attack.

"Do you need me to do this?" prodded Clarke softly.

Clarke was still an innocent, she couldn't ask that of her. She had to find the strength to do this herself, to dispose of the demon that had been haunting her dreams for months and bring her closure. But every time she tried to bring the sword down, Costia's hopeful face appeared in her minds eye, and she simply couldn't.

A blur of movement - an animal perhaps - nearly undid her. In the same moment of distraction, Eira had retrieved her curved dagger and was slashing through her boot and biting deeply into the flesh of her calf. She staggered back, using the sword to keep her aloft as the wrenching pain blinded her.

"Lexa!"

The queen sprung to her feet, no endearment left, face transformed into something terrible to behold, wild and frightening. Eira lunged at her and Lexa fell backward in a frantic effort to evade the killing blow. Her embedded sword was now out of reach and likewise her dagger had been left behind in someone's skull back in the killing field. Except for her armoured gloves and cunning, she was weaponless, and Eira was hellbent on finishing this feud between them once and for all. Before she could react, Eira jumped at her, pining her down, blade flashing in a downward arc. Lexa grabbed her wrist with both hands and stopped the savage attack just before impact with her chest.

Eira added her second hand over top the back of the one holding the dagger, trying to drive it the last inch home. Lexa struggled fiercely to push back one last time but was unable to get the upper hand. Nearly an hour of continuous battle had exhausted most of her energy reserves and it was all she could do to hold on. She tried to kick Eira off but her legs were immobilized by the queen's body to too great a degree. If she let go even for an instant to punch her, she would be dead before the blow landed. As Clarke would say, Lexa was well and truly fucked.

Consequently, Clarke was 'freaking out' nearby, which wasn't exactly helpful.

Eira snarled as she shoved even harder, the tip of blade piercing through broken armour and pricking her skin.

 _Costia...Clarke...I'm sorry_ , thought Lexa, closing her eyes when the point dug in further, searching for a way to slip between bruised ribs and pierce her heart.

"Don't give up, Lexa!" shouted Clarke desperately. "You can still win this! Let me help you!"

With no better option presenting itself, Lexa grunted her assent and snapped her eyes open when she instantly felt a surge of vitality pour through and fill her completely. To the surprise of Eira, the dagger began to rise slowly out of Lexa's chest, milimetre by milimetre until it was free altogether. Clarke wasted no time disarming her with a savage wrench of the wrist, followed by an equally savage headbutt. The stunned queen fell off of Lexa and scrambled towards the scattered dagger, but Clarke hopped to her feet and grabbed Eira's ankle with vice like fingers before she could reach it. She proceeded to drag the bloodied woman over to where Lexa's sword stood tall and yanked it out of the dirt.

At which point Clarke returned her body, and Lexa fluidly pivoted and impaled Eira through the back, severing her spinal cord and silencing her forever. Not taking any chances, Lexa kicked the body over with her good leg and stabbed it again. Then she just contemplated it for several moments, apparently fascinated by the blood pooling out around it. The calculating, yet gracious quality of her eyes was gone, replaced with a dull mockery of intellect. If only Eira hadn't been so consumed with accumulating power, Lexa might have actually been friends with her.

Satisfied that the ice queen was indeed no more, a burst of emotion swelled up within her and tears threatened to pour forth with a vengeance.

 _I hope you have found peace, Costia_.

"Let yourself grieve," said Clarke, embracing her. "Don't bottle it up."

Lexa gripped her tight and shook her head slowly against Clarke's shoulder. "Now is not the time, Clarke," she said thickly. "There is still much work to be done."

"Okay," Clarke responded, pulling back slightly with a gentle, compassionate smile. "Later."

The excitement at an end, all of the hurts inflicted during battle and this final fight made themselves known at once. She gasped from the sudden throbbings everywhere, none more so than the deep gash in her calf, and she dropped to her behind, clutching at it.

"Lexa!" exclaimed Clarke in alarm, dropping down with her, concern etched deeply in her young face. "You need to take your boot off so that I can see how bad it is." Lexa nodded dully, clamping her jaw down as she yanked it off, blood soaking her lower leg and foot. Clarke hovered over the moderately bleeding gash briefly, inspecting, but not touching. "It's not that bad," she said biting her lip. She looked to Eira. "You can use the fabric of her cloak to bandage that up."

Lexa grabbed a hold of the flowing blue material and ripped off a couple of broad strips before wrapping them around the tender injury. While she did that, Clarke examined the partial stab wound in her chest. Compared to her calf, it was barely bleeding, but it was still painful all the same.

When Lexa had pulled her boot back on, foot squelching in blood, Clarke tugged insistently on her arm. "Come on, we need to get you back to the ship. Someone can give you something for the pain." Lexa grit her teeth and staggered to her feet. As soon as she put pressure on the slashed calf, a wave of agony shot up her leg, making her hiss. Clarke's grip tightened around her waist. "I know you're hurting, Lexa, but you can do this. Just one foot in front of the other. I'll be right here beside you the whole way."

Not wanting to be completely defenceless in her less than optimal state, Lexa retrieved her sword from Eira and continued to limp onwards. They walked a short ways in silence, the occasional gasp of pain escaping her taught lips.

Needing a distraction she asked, "How are your people faring in the dead zone, Clarke?"

"So far so good," replied Clarke with a sideways smile. "It's hot as hell, but we should have enough water to see us through. I can't imagine actually _living_ here though. I can see why the exiles are so ruthless. It's the only way to survive."

"Have any troubled you yet?"

"No." Even out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Clarke's smile was strained. "But a lot of people want to take a break until nightfall. They think it will be cooler then."

"They're right, it will be, but you mustn't stop moving, Clarke. The longer you do, the more chance you will be sought out by the scavengers. Some of them have similar weaponry to your own and are extremely dangerous."

Clarke nodded and was on the verge of saying something else, when a hated shape appeared from the shadows of the forest. Too far away to strike with her sword, the mountain man smirked and pointed the gun at Lexa.

"That was some fight, commander," he breathed through his respirator. "I was rooting for the other savage to win, but we can't always get our way." He twitched the gun. "You're delusional and talking to yourself, which suggests brain damage, but I can't take the chance that you'll recover, so now it's up to me to finish what we started." He winked. "Cage sends his regards."

"No!" screamed Clarke, throwing herself in front of Lexa, as if that would do anything.

At the same instant the shot was fired, an arrow lodged itself through Emerson's arm. The shot missed its intended mark, grazing her upper arm instead of piercing her heart. Emerson frantically grasped at his arm, howling in pain as the ruptured suit began to let in the toxic air. She searched for the shooter and was not surprised to find a dishevelled Anya partially obscured by a tree. Emerson collapsed, writhing on the ground, as his face sported many lesions. Lexa was in no mood to bestow the same mercy she had bestowed on Eira's horse. And it mattered little, for within another fifteen seconds, the noise ceased, the body curled and unmoving.

"Jesus," winced Clarke as they viewed the ruin that was his face.

Lexa knew what she was thinking. This could have very well been her own fate. The idea horrified Lexa as well and she clenched her fist tighter around the hilt in an attempt to dispel this displeasure.

Anya approached rapidly, but silently then, retrieving her arrow and wiping it on the 'hazmat suit'. She turned to Lexa - who was slumped against her sword - taking in all her injuries. Wordlessly, Anya wrapped an arm around her waist before recommencing the walk back to the ship. She sensed Clarke was somewhat irritated to have her role taken over, and the corners of Lexa's lips twitched, remembering how the raven haired girl had evoked similar feelings in her.

After a minute or so Anya said, "The battle is won."

_Yes, but at what cost?_

Lexa dipped her head wearily, wishing nothing more than to sleep for days, but knowing she couldn't afford such a luxury. She glanced sideways at Clarke.

"What of the sky people?"

Anya narrowed her eyes. "Cowering in their 'ship' still...but there _will_ be a reckoning, Lexa, and there's nothing you can do about it."

 _We shall see_ , thought Lexa grimly, _we shall see_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's trying to kill Lexa. How rude.
> 
> I was so close to having that horse fleeing person be a decoy and having the queen get away on foot, but then I thought nah, I wanna see her bleed!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. Here we go again...

With every step Lexa took, Clarke unconsciously limped in reciprocity. Eventually her mother couldn't help but comment.

"Are you okay, Clarke?" she asked tentatively.

"Course she isn't," said Murphy. "The princess is obviously schizo." Abby, Jake and Wells glared back at him just as much for the taunting term as the insinuation. "Can someone tell me why we're following her lead again?"

"We're not," said Jaha with a sidelong glance at Jake. "We're using the landmarks as guidance. The opposite direction would lead us to the ocean."

"Right," drawled Murphy, glancing around the arid and desolate landscape. "The landmarks."

Much more concerned with Lexa's well being, Clarke was only vaguely aware of the discourse about her. The next comment however reached her conscious mind and roused her to action.

"We've been walking for hours in this godforsaken place and my undie's are one with my arse," complained someone from the middle of the pack, eliciting faint giggling. "I say we stop for the day and set up camp."

Murmurs of ascent fluttered through the crowd like wings of a butterfly. "I already told you, we can't stop for that long," she said flatly, voice brooking no argument. She half turned to intensely gaze at everyone in sight. "The desert dwellers will try to steal our stuff...maybe even hurt us."

"Which voice told you that?" said Murphy carelessly.

 _There's only the one_ , she almost snapped out loud.

"You all saw that body back there," she said, ignoring the broody guy's jab. "It's not safe to linger."

"Could have just as easily been an animal," breezily replied Murphy.

She glared at him and the slight smirk. "Either way it's not a good idea to spend too much time out here. Our supplies are limited...and the others might be injured and need our help."

"And we care why?" continued Murphy in his devil's advocate vein. "They tried to stop us from coming down. I doubt they're going to welcome us with open arms."

Mutterings of approval, some claiming they'd be better off without them. Clarke was about to crack and get in his face, 'too bad they didn't stop you, you murderer!' she wanted to scream, but her father placed a staying hand on her arm and she instead huffed loudly at the smug smirk across his face.

"We care, John Murphy, because they are still our people," said Jaha authoritatively, if not a bit winded. "For better or for worse. And we have a better chance of surviving if we work together and pool our resources."

"And by resources, you mean guns."

Thinking about her people and their guns made her feel extremely nauseated all of a sudden and she had to fight to keep it down. When the sensation wouldn't go away, she realized it wasn't her own body in turmoil. Worried, Clarke switched into the forest, momentarily enjoying the cooler air on her skin. Anya and Lexa had made it back to the dropship and all of the bloodied and mangled bodies. There seemed no end to them. The gruesome sight and more specifically, the overwhelming stench of feces was turning both of their stomachs into knots, making the bile rise. It was a wonder that Lexa had not already spilled its contents, weakened as she was. In a bizarre way, Clarke was comforted by the knowledge that Lexa could still feel the full horror of such harsh, undignified endings. Perhaps years of ordering her people to die for her had actually amplified her compassion, rather than diminished it. Only the ironclad facade of indifference kept her stoic and unaffected in the eyes of her people. Emotions... _weakness_ , abounded within, chief among them sadness and rage.

And perhaps Lexa viewed this unsettling proximity as payment for her sins.

Clarke forced herself to stand among dead with Lexa (still aided by Anya), just observing the carnage, and looking for familiar faces. Every time Lexa spotted one, Clarke felt a tug on her heartstrings, and wanted to take Lexa in her arms and shield her from the massacre her own people had inflicted on them. Assuming he lived that long, Clarke was going to kick Kane's ass the next time they met. She had never wanted to murder anyone as much as she had him, not even Murphy and his constant stream of asinine (though often valid) comments.

"Commander," said a deep voice off to the side where the handfuls of survivors were resting. Lexa turned to find Gustus stiffly approaching, wading his way through their own bodies carefully, but carelessly stepping on Ice Nation soldiers that found themselves under foot.

His appearance elicited a particularly hard tug on Lexa's heartstrings and it was with difficulty that the commander did not smile brightly at him in such an inappropriate locale. So Clarke smiled for her and was amused when they both surreptitiously scanned each other over, assessing damage, looking for injuries. Clarke noted what was likely bullet wounds in his shoulder and torso. They hadn't been tended to yet, but he seemed not to care.

Lexa gripped forearms with him. "Gustus." She let go and viewed the warriors some ways away by the clearings tree line. Smoke billowed up from a small fire. Even from here Clarke could make out the rigid shape of Indra, who was slumped against a tree but still barking orders to the healer on hand. Lexa's heart thumped again in recognition.

"Send the most able messenger to Tondc. Inform them of our victory over the Ice Nation. Bring Nyko here, as well as fifty of our people to assist in the creation of the pyres. They need not be warriors."

Thankfully Lexa had only brought about a third of her total forces to this battle. Such numbers had seemed more than sufficient to deal with the Ice Nation. It also afforded the bled a measure of protection, lest someone else attacked. And given the Mountain Men's assassination attempt, this appeared to be a very wise decision indeed.

Gustus nodded. A wave of dizziness stole over Lexa and Anya struggled with her weight as she sagged down towards the corpses. Despite his own injuries, he easily hefted her into his arms and trudged his way over to the healer. At Gustus's command, a harassed and over worked brown haired girl stopped attending to one warrior with a broken leg and hurried to Lexa's side, who was now sweating profusely, and in a barely conscious state. Clarke began to flicker in and out of existence, shapes and voices becoming less distinct with every passing second. She had to strain through a hazy cloud to make out what was happening.

The girl pressed around the chest wound, and black blood oozed out. Clarke froze when she saw that, concern plain to see. She stooped to hold Lexa's clammy hand as the girl dipped her pinky finger into the blood and placed it to her tongue.

"Poison," she said solemnly looking up at them, after spitting it out.

"So give her an antidote!" snarled Anya, not understanding her lack of movement.

The girl shook her head, glancing at her half empty medicinal supplies. "I've already used the last of it."

Needless to say, this was not good. By the time more could be made, or retrieved from Tondc, it could be too late. Still, Gustus sent someone, and they flew as fast as their beleaguered state would allow. In the meantime, as the world continued to darken around her, Clarke did her best to remain calm and keep Lexa awake, stroking her flushed face and speaking softly to her. To Clarke's knowledge, poisonings usually resulted in pallid skin (the blood moving inward to preserve major internal organs). Idly she wondered if her presence in the desert was only exacerbating Lexa's condition. If only she were closer she could do something...

An idea struck her then. Her eyes flashed to the dropship. "Lexa, they have medicine in there! They can help you!" There was no response so she shook her shoulder until her eyelids fluttered more fully open. More light poured in and Clarke could see more clearly. "The medicine in the dropship, Lexa, you need to get some!"

"Clarke," Lexa said finally, reaching out to touch her, smiling faintly. A tidal wave of affection hit her and she figuratively staggered. Before Lexa's hand made contact with her face, her arm went limp and her eyes rolled back into her skull. Clarke found herself screaming in the desert.

"Here we go again," said Murphy rolling his eyes. "Could that bitch just go and die already?"

Infuriated, she launched herself at the murderous asshole, intent on murdering him. Not expecting such a vicious attack, Clarke managed to pummel him pretty good before many arms pried her off of him.

He groaned, spitting out blood. "Told you she was psycho."

"Damn, I got off easy," said Raven wide eyed. Finn frowned and held his girlfriend close.

Abby dropped to her knees to access damages. The brain trust helped the battered boy to his feet afterwards, glaring daggers at her.

"Clarke!" scolded her mother, while her father restrained her. "You can't just attack people for no reason!"

"He had it coming!" she grunted, trying to break free of the bear hug she was currently in. She looked around, wild eyed at everyone surrounding them. "Anyone else have anything witty to say?!"

People backed away in response, wary.

Jaha stepped closer, avoiding Jake and Wells' eye. "I'm afraid we're going to have to restrain you now, Clarke."

Someone quickly supplied him with a scarf and her father held her arms out while Jaha secured the sturdy and rough garment around her wrists.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her sandy hair. (Her own headdress had come off in the attack).

Since Clarke didn't care to be there anymore, she tried to get back to Lexa, and for once her wish was granted. Gustus had carried Lexa over to the dropship and was currently in talks with Clarke's people. Anya and even Indra had come with to facilitate this endeavour, which was apparently not proving very helpful.

Indra narrowed her eyes at those present behind the transparent doors. "...this carnage. You will aid us, or I promise you, you will live to regret it."

"And if you don't save her," added Anya unhelpfully, "we will kill every last one of you. I will rip your tongues from your throats and pull your-

"Enough!" sputtered Lexa, aggravated to speech by their pointless threats.

"Help her," said Gustus simply, holding her up in an eeriely reminiscent way to that of Lexa's mother.

Once more Octavia was the first to respond, opening the door before anyone could stop her. She pulled a frightened Jackson out with her. Bellamy and several guards followed in their wake. Kane was nowhere to be found. The warriors moved aside slightly as Gustus laid Lexa down so that the trembling doctor could gain full access to his patient.

"You say she's been poisoned?" he asked, voice quavering. They just stared at him. Jackson pressed on Lexa's chest the same way that the girl had and then opened up a med kit and pulled out a syringe.

Before he could stick it into Lexa's neck, Anya grabbed his wrist. "What is that?"

"Bezoarix. It can counteract most poisons."

She nodded sharply, letting him go and he jabbed it into her neck, clicking mechanically as it released its contents. Impatiently they waited for something to happen, and when it didn't, began to intimidate the poor man some more. All this accomplished was guards with electric batons at the ready.

Clarke dropped to her knees and fumbled for Lexa's hand - it was getting hard to see again. The pulse was very weak, but that might have just been due to her bandages. "Come on, Lexa. Fight this! Don't let her win!" Her voice cracked as near darkness enshrouded her senses, hollowing her out with a piercing chill, and making her feel like she'd never be happy again. "Don't leave me. I need you, Lexa." She licked her chapped lips and swallowed hard, saying something she'd never said before to a romantic interest. "I love you."

As if the words themselves possessed magical properties, Lexa squeezed her hand back and shortly after opened her eyes. Though it was overcast now, Lexa blinked into the daylight, calmly observing those observing her, and then settled her gaze on Clarke.

"Clarke," she said with a weak smile, reaching up to cup her face. This time she was successful and Clarke leaned into the clammy touch, kissing her hand fervently, letting the pent up tears fall.

"Is she supposed to be hallucinating?" muttered Octavia, elbowing her brother in the ribs.

"How should I know?" he said, giving her an annoyed stare, discreetly rubbing at his side.

"Some poisons are hallucinogenic," said Jackson, shining a bright light in Lexa's eyes. Clarke squinted into the sudden glare. He glanced at the warriors nervously, as if expecting them to blame him for screwing up and seek swift retribution. "I'm sure the lingering effects will fade away as she continues to stabilize."

Indra, Anya and Gustus shared a cursory look between them but didn't say anything.

"I can tend to the rest of her wounds if you'd like. And yours as well," Jackson added timidly to the imposing man.

"No," said Gustus, gingerly taking Lexa back into his arms. "Our healer will care for the commander."

And without a word of thanks, the warriors left her people.

* * *

Since the girl had given Lexa something for the pain, and due to her sheer exhaustion, she was now dozing, and consequently Clarke was forced to trudge along with her people across hell on Earth. Most were giving her a wide berth, which she was only too thankful for as it lessened the amount of heat radiating off of their bodies and onto her absolutely drenched skin. If no one else had been with her, she would have been sorely tempted to strip down to her underthings.

It was somewhat difficult to keep her balance up the sand dunes with her hands tied, and occasionally someone like Wells or her father would grab hold to steady her. The longer they were out there, the more frequent the breaks became and Clarke worried that dangerous exiles would finally make their move.

But they never did.

Clarke attributed this to her people's sheer numbers. Even with advanced weaponry, it would be a risky endeavour to take on one hundred at once. _They_ didn't know that the sum total of her people's defences consisted of two antiquated pistols, various tools, and a handmade slingshot. Doubtless the scavengers would tear apart their dropship instead, and Clarke thought they were welcome to it. Anyone forced to live in these conditions needed all the help they could get.

When the torturous sun began to lower and her people begged to stop for the evening, Clarke could hardly begrudge them this mercy any longer. And though she desperately wanted to keep going and somehow make her way to Lexa without further guidance, she knew she wouldn't-couldn't desert her people.

So they began to set up a large sleeping area on a relatively shielded and flat expanse of sand. Being tied up prevented her from helping much, so she busied herself by climbing up a dune and scanning the immediate area in all directions. There was still no sign of watchers or potential threats. Relieved by this knowledge, she joined the others for a meal, all the while conscious of the fact that Murphy and his new found cronies were giving her the stink eye. She glared back a couple of times and then simply ignored them, making stilted conversation with her parents and the Jaha's now and again.

Bones weary beyond measure, she tried to get to sleep on soft and cooling sand, but couldn't stop picturing Lexa and all of the dead - how she was nearly one of them - and despite her bodies extreme protests, she got up and decided to go for a bit of a walk; an effort to clear her mind. A short distance away from the group she communicated Lexa, who somehow was on her feet again, overseeing the construction of the funeral pyres. Clarke had watched this process on more than one occasion but never on this grand a scale. Several carts filled to the brim with linen rested near the dead while Lexa's people rolled body after body in the fabric, tying them off to keep them in place. Hordes of small trees had been chopped down by many sweaty folk, a handful of which were her own people. Somehow she wasn't surprised to find the Blake siblings lending a hand. Octavia probably guilted her brother and the other few people into helping.

Clarke slipped an arm around Lexa's waist, resting her head on her (thankfully guard free) shoulder.

She didn't need to ask but she did anyway. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts everywhere, but I'll be fine. I've suffered worse injuries than these."

Clarke nodded against her shoulder, nose rubbing into her warm neck. "They're going to be at this for awhile yet, Lexa, you should get some more rest."

"All right," she conceded eventually, moving over to the nearest tree to slump down against.

Clarke followed suit, huddling up beside her again, immediately feeling comforted and drowsy. A small voice in the back of her mind wouldn't shut up though. Her breath quickened as she broached the topic. "About earlier...I said some things...I don't know if you remember..."

"I remember," Lexa said softly. She paused a beat before cocking her head sideways to meet Clarke's anxious gaze. Lexa clasped her hand and smiled reassuringly. "There's no reason to be nervous, Clarke. You simply gave voice to something we both know to be true. That perhaps we've always known."

Lexa had basically said she loved her back and Clarke relaxed again, wishing she could hold Lexa more fully without aggravating her injuries. She settled for kissing her, long and slow, allowing all the love and tenderness to flow through them, if only for a moment. Afterwards, Clarke sighed in contentment, gripping Lexa's arm, and leaning her head on her shoulder again. Lexa placed her own head on top of Clarke's and soon they were both drifting off peacefully, despite the horrific sight before them.

A hand clapped over her mouth and a bashed up face peered down at her in repressed glee. She tried to hit him with tied hands, but someone else grabbed a hold of them - scar face - and Murphy slipped out a knife from his sleeve. It gleamed in the moonlight as evilly as the person holding it. Clarke struggled frantically against her captor and Murphy glowered and said, "Hold her still." The other guy, buzzcut, sat on her legs to keep her from kicking them as well.

"I'm doing everyone a favour," he said seriously, as he nonchalantly toyed with the knife near her eye, doing his best to unnerve her. It was working. "You're damaged goods, princess, and your royal bloodline needs to come to an end." He smirked, as though he had just amused himself with his own wit.

She screamed at them, at the unfairness of the predicament. She had come too far to die now at the hands of this scumbag, and those two idiots, and her brain worked in overtime to find a solution. There was only one thing she could think to do. She bit into Murphy's dirty, smelly palm and he yelped, pulling his hand back from her mouth.

Before she could either yell for help or he could slit her throat, someone said, "What the hell?"

They all froze and then turned towards the voice, to find Raven silhouetted in the moonlight. Murphy told his two cronies to get her, leaving him to finish Clarke off. While he was distracted, she flicked her hands upwards, cutting her bonds on the knife before he could react and then rolled away from him, hopping to her feet stiffly.

"You're dead," he said as he lunged at her, blade outstretched.

Instinctively, Clarke's body mimicked Lexa's own movements and she dodged the blow, punching him in the stomach. He grunted, doubling over and slashed blindly, but she evaded once more and smashed him across the face so hard that her hand vibrated. That dropped him, and while he was incapacitated, she ran in the direction of the other three, hoping no harm had come to Raven.

She found them not too far away. Both boys were in the sand, clutching at their crotches. Raven dashed over when she saw her, and to Clarke's surprise, drew her into a hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I can't believe Murphy tried to kill you!"

Clarke grimaced and said, "I can." She pulled back, grabbing Raven's hand with bloody bandages. "Now let's get the hell out of here!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I can't help but put a little Princess Mechanic in here...or make HP refs


	21. Chapter 21

Raven and Clarke rushed back to camp, hollering for people to wake up. Her dad was one of the first people on his feet, hurrying over to her side. Jaha, Wells and Finn were fast approaching.

"Clarke, what's happened?" her dad asked urgently, eyeing the lack of restraint and bloodied bandages. "Is it the scavengers?"

"Worse," answered Raven for her. "Murphy and his goons tried to kill Clarke."

" _What_?!" exclaimed her mother, above the general din this announcement had caused. She was now examining Clarke's face, running her hands over her arms...

"I'm fine, mom," she said impatiently, not liking being fussed over. "He didn't hurt me."

"Did you...did you hurt him?" Abby asked nervously.

What she was really asking was if Clarke killed him. She had been sorely tempted to, but to do so when he was knocked out would have been little better than cold blooded murder. And she was planning on not killing anyone for as long as she could on Earth. Based on everything she had seen so far through Lexa's eyes, she knew it wouldn't be long before she made her first kill. The idea put her stomach in knots.

"I defended myself...but he's still alive."

"Too bad," said Raven under her breath, more to Clarke than to Finn, who was holding onto her protectively again.

"Oh thank goodness," said her mother in relief, which annoyed Clarke.

Jaha had been silently watching their encounter a few feet away. He stepped forward and ordered an 'armed' group to go out and collect the boys so that they could face suitable punishment, whatever that would be now that they were on Earth...and Jaha wasn't the Chancellor.

Flashlights and old pistols in hand, the group followed Clarke and Raven to the scene of the would be crime. But by the time they got there, it was clear that the boys had fled North, half dragging Murphy with them. They hadn't had any supplies on hand and consequently wouldn't last long on their own. While it could be risky to pursue them at night on unknown terrain, it was likely that they hadn't gotten far, so Jaha urged them onward, even further away from camp.

After a couple of minutes the search party spotted dark shadows a little ways from the dune they were currently occupying. They were about to pursue, when a loud bang and burst of flame brightened the moonlit sky. Bits of something rained down over the crater in the sand.

"Was that..."

"Did they just..."

"Couldn't have done it better myself," murmured Raven darkly.

* * *

It was nearly impossible to keep himself together after communications with Carl ceased. An opportunity presented itself to stop the deal, and Cage had eagerly given the go ahead to assassinate the commander.

That was five hours ago now.

Two possibilities had immediately presented themselves to Cage, neither of which were pleasant. Either the savages had captured Carl and taken away his walkie talkie...or they had killed him. Both options made him tremble in trepidation and rage. If he were currently still alive, he wouldn't be for much longer. By his calculations, Carl would have just barely enough oxygen to get back to the bunker in time.

The loop having been terminated, Cage knew they were watching him and he didn't want them to know what was coming. So he was forced to bide his time and pretend like nothing was wrong while his insides seethed and wait for the opportune moment to strike.

Finally that moment was here, and when the guard came in with his supper, Cage grabbed the man's gun and pistol whipped him. The trays contents spilled to the tiled floor as he fell to the ground. Stooping, Cage retrieved a key card and slipped through the door, double checking that his own walkie talkie was securely in place on his belt.

They would be after him soon enough so he could not waste a second in getting to his destination four floors up. After what seemed an eternity, the blasted elevator arrived and he stormed in, jabbing at the seven, heedless of anyone else's presence. When he thought to look, he saw that he was indeed alone and began mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. Even if he was successful, he would probably be locked up for the rest of his life. But Cage knew that Carl would do the same for him and he wasn't going to back down.

By some miracle, no one was waiting for him outside the elevator doors. Without further thought, Cage sprinted towards the control room, encountering only a couple of startled on lookers, which he ignored.

Using the key card, he accessed the bunker's mainframe, gun at the ready. It being meal time, only one person was on duty, and he had been slacking, reading a book instead of paying attention to the monitors.

"Get the fuck out!" ordered Cage, startling the man badly, making him drop his reading material.

"Sir?" he said stupidly in answer to the gun in his face. "What are you doing, sir?"

"I won't ask a second time!"

The guard gulped, nodded and evacuated the premises. That irritation accomplished, Cage quickly made his way over to the main console and locked the door, setting his stolen gun down on the dash. Having never done this before, it took awhile to locate the correct protocol to run, but once he did, he didn't hesitate to initiate, inputing the applicable access codes that he had learned some months ago. Without a man on the ground, he couldn't pin point the exact location he wanted to target, but the general area would suffice to do some serious damage. Satisfied with the marker, he set the timer for the absolute minimum.

The countdown read T-minus one minute.

Preparations complete, he yanked off his walkie talkie and barked into it. "This is Cage Wallace. If Carl Emerson is still alive, respond." He waited a few seconds, intently listening into the electronic hiss for any other sounds whatsoever. There were none. The rage and urgency rapidly accumulated, eliciting a death threat right out of the gate. "You have ten seconds to respond to me or I will blow your fucking village to Kingdom Come!"

Again, only static was heard.

"Okay then bastards!" he yelled to no one. "Prepare to be annihilated!"

Cage roared in frustration when he realized the countdown had only reached the half way point. As far as he could tell, there was no way to make it go faster, and he slammed his hands onto the dash, making the gun jump.

And then to make matters worse, people were pounding on the door, hollering and trying to get in. Cage wasn't concerned, there was no way they could break in in time, not without-

A small explosion rocked the area and knocked the door off its hinges, violently scattering across the floor, leaving rude scratches. Reflexively he ducked down, covering his face.

 _Sixteen seconds to go_.

"Shit!" he muttered to himself, reaching up for the gun. It wasn't where he had left it. The shock waves had dropped it to the floor a short distance from his current huddled position.

Three guards swarmed in through the cloud of dust and concrete, their own weapons pointed at him. "Not so fast, Cage!" warned Lovejoy as he attempted to pick up the gun.

"Step away from it, or we'll be forced to shoot!"

Cage did as he was told, pretending to be upset but smirking privately to himself. There were only seven more seconds until sweet revenge. The guards swept in further, kicking the gun away and turning to the console just in time to see the launch initiated. They couldn't abort it now even if they tried, which they did, frantically. Realizing that it was too late, they zapped him several times until he fell to his knees and then hand cuffed him. Lovejoy dragged him over to the centre of the room, where his father was now standing, his own suppressed rage just beneath the surface.

"He's bombed Tondc," said Lovejoy expressionlessly.

Before one word was uttered between the Wallaces, Dante slapped Cage hard, leaving behind an ugly red welt that was all the more startling due to his excessively pallid skin tone.

"Are you so intent on getting your way that you would ruin us all?!" his father demanded, voice strangled in anger.

"They deserve to die!" he yelled back, fighting the tears. "Every last one of them!"

Dante's nostrils flared. "What else did you do?" he asked astutely, as if the missile strike wasn't bad enough.

Cage didn't immediately respond and Dante grabbed him by the shirt collar, shaking him. "What did you _do_?!"

"I ordered Carl to kill her."

He got far too much satisfaction at the bug eyed look his father was now bestowing on him.

It took a few seconds for Dante to control his ragged breathing enough to utter his next query. "Did he succeed?"

Cage's glance away was response enough. Suddenly Dante understood why his son had acted even more rashly than usual. "Emerson's dead, isn't he?"

Cage couldn't help the tear from escaping and Dante momentarily felt for his son. Losing a loved one was one of the worst possible things that could happen to a person.

But practicality soon squashed this empathetic response and he forced himself to become The President, and not a caring father. The only reason his son's lover was dead was because they had both acted in a traitorous manner. Attempted assassination _and_ a bombing spelled disaster. Perhaps if his son had stuck with only the former, the commander might have been willing to overlook a rogue action and uphold their deal, but now, now there was no chance of that. In his grief and madness, Cage had gotten his wish, and also ensured all of their deaths in the process. Sooner or later, what was left of the commanders army _would_ come for them...and now they knew a way in.

Even if they stopped the army from gaining access, by blocking the tunnel, they would effectively be trapping themselves as well. Their emergency blood stores would soon dry up without further donations, given willingly or not. People would get sick again like his mother and sister...like his wife...and start systematically dying. It might take years, but eventually they would all be dead.

The crushing realization that there was nothing he could do about any of this, that there was no way he could fix the impossible situation his idiot son had placed them in sent Dante into a head spin.

"You..." he started, and stopped abruptly. A massive weight pressed on his chest, severe pains radiated outward from his heart so that he couldn't breathe. He clutched at Cage before collapsing on the floor, dead even before he reached it.

* * *

"Commander! Commander!" yelled various warriors around her, rousing her immediately to her feet, even though it pained her to do so.

"What is it? What's happened?" she asked of Indra, who was closest, who had also been resting from her various injuries. Indra was even grimmer looking than usual. "Speak!"

"A burning light just flew through the sky towards the village."

_No. Dante wouldn't..._

Lexa couldn't contain her surprise and displeasure at yet another blow to her people. Everything was happening at once. It was just too much. She couldn't handle any more death today. Her frazzled mind tried to find an alternative explanation.

_Maybe it's not what they think it is? Another Skaikru ship?_

Indra quickly dashed her hopes.

"I have seen its like before, when I was only a girl," Indra continued, the hatred clear in her eyes. "It is one of my first memories. My clan was just outside of the blast range. Those that were not immediately blown apart, burned alive, in terrible agony. I will never forget that day, never forgive."

Lexa was almost surprised that Indra had not attacked her upon learning about her deal with the Mountain Men. Apparently her top General had more restraint than Lexa gave her credit for.

There was nothing that she wanted to do less than to go to Tondc and deal with the fallout. But her people needed her, now more than ever, and she would simply have to find the strength to carry on. She gave orders to everyone present to prepare themselves for the journey back. No one would be left here with the likes of the unpredictable Skaikru. As preparations were under way, she relocated to a private location and ushered herself to Clarke, pleased when she appeared in the desert, if not a little confused. Not that long ago Clarke had been asleep. A number of others were awake as well. What had disturbed their slumber? Scavengers?

"Clarke? Has something happened?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Clarke said somewhat detached, which only alarmed Lexa further. For the moment, her own fears were pushed aside.

" _Clarke_."

Clarke rubbed at her tired and weathered face and sighed, dully informing her that three of her own tried to kill her in her sleep. Lexa bristled at this development. Her people considered such tactics to be the lowest form of murder, even below that of poison. The victim had no chance to defend themselves and there was no honour in that. Clarke was very lucky to still be alive. If Lexa could have gotten her hands on the perpetrators right then, she probably would have killed them all over again. As it was, she simply gave Clarke what she hoped was a reassuring hug.

Something about their proximity, about the never ending trials of the day, smashed through her invisible armour and pierced to her core, and she broke down in Clarke's arms. Lexa had never shown such weakness and vulnerability to Clarke before, but Clarke did not judge her, or ask any questions. She just held Lexa as tightly as her wounds allowed, kissing the top of her head and whispering words of comfort as she gently rocked her back and forth. Lexa grieved for Costia, for her people, and for everything else that had been lost on this day. The terrible burdens thrust upon her lessened considerably in this uncharacteristic outpouring of visible emotion. She knew it wouldn't last, that the weight of grief and responsibility would be returning all too soon, but for the moment she could breathe easier. For the moment, she was almost free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My babies! What is wrong with me? Ahhh!
> 
> Lol, they're dropping like flies these last few chaps...Poor Dante. *cue Demi Lovato song*


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay with this chap. It's on the longer side, so I hope that makes it up to you. :)
> 
> Also, in case y'all are interested, I posted a short one shot a few days back about Clexa trying to get it on. It's funny, sad, sweet and a little bit sexy...so yeah...have at it, or not. ;)

* * *

The thirty odd survivors and fifty helpers approached the village as fast as their tired bodies would allow. Lexa doubted the sights and smells that would soon be upon them could possibly be worse than those on the killing field, and this was the only mercy and comfort she expected to find. However, upon their arrival, she found things were not quite as they had seemed. Tondc was still very much intact, and there was no sign whatsoever of a missile strike.

Confused, she turned to Indra, who was just as baffled as she was, going so far as to raise an eyebrow slightly.

Some villagers came out to greet them and she stiffened to attention, wincing inwardly at the added strain on her slashed calf. "All is well?"

They cast their eyes aside and one replied, "There was a commotion, commander. A few have perished."

_How many was a few?_

"Show me."

The villagers obliged and led them through Tondc and into the encampment. Many cheered her return and victory as she passed by, though the mood was somewhat dampened by other recent events. Periodically Lexa inclined her head in their directions, but otherwise ignored them. She was much more focused on getting to the bottom of this mystery.

At the edge of the perimeter, it was solved. The crater caused by the missile was much larger than she had imagined, and yet still it had caused relatively little damage to her people. The trees and surrounding area though, looked much like the clearing in which the drop ship had come down in, but even more devastated. Nothing would grow here for quite some time.

She shivered slightly, thinking about how much worse things could have been, how close they had come to utter disaster for the second time that day; how the bits and pieces of flesh and bone scattered around could have easily been Clarke's had a mine come under _her_ foot and not her assailants.

On their way here, Lexa had had time to think about this missile strike. She was certain Dante wouldn't have fired on them. It made no logical sense. But the other one, the one who had ordered her death...Cage, they seemed like a probable suspect. To have access to such deadly weaponry meant they must be a high ranking member of the Mountain. Perhaps they had disagreed with The President's deal and tried to remedy any way they could. Perhaps they had even been close with Emerson and sought retribution. Whatever the motive, it mattered little. The fact remained that someone from the Mountain had tried to obliterate her people and there was no way she could uphold the deal with them any longer. To do so would be her own death.

Lexa supposed she should almost be thankful to whoever attacked, now she did not have to fear mutiny from her own people. She was free to go and take down the Mountain, once and for all, just as she had always planned. And yet, she could not be completely joyous at the prospect, for it had cost dozens more of her people's lives, making the overall death count over three hundred. In one day, one _battle_ , she had lost more warriors than months of clan wars. Thankfully... _hopefully_ those were finally at an end.

Her fellow companions stood by her, silently observing the wreckage for some moments. Then one by one, they all looked to her and she took a deep breath and nodded. Though she wanted desperately to rest, there was no time to delay.

Blood must have blood.

* * *

They marched two hundred strong, Lexa at the forefront once more atop yet another horse. This one was nameless and she thought perhaps that was for the best. Putting names to animals only humanized them and made it that much harder to say goodbye to them. Of course, she wasn't _counting_ on the brown mare in vicious adornment to be killed, but anything could, and apparently _would_ happen tonight.

Wary of further sneak attacks, she had sent scouts up in the trees in every direction. The one from the North-West direction was now silently dropping out of the trees. She halted the armies movement while they conversed in hushed tones, Anya and Indra listening in. Gustus's many bullet wounds had finally taken their toll, and she had ordered him to stay behind in the camp, afraid to lose him too. Indra would not listen to a similar command, and given her past with the Maunon, Lexa did not insist, though she thought it foolish for her to fight in her condition.

With a nod of thanks, the scout disappeared back into the shadows and out of sight and hearing. According to the scout, twelve heavily armed mountain men had just emerged from one of the many tunnel entrances and were headed in this direction. At first this information puzzled her. Why risk exposure from all sides? Why not stay in the closed tunnels with the reapers and attack her army then?

Lexa wondered if maybe Cage believed her army to be mostly gone and had sent men to finish the rest off. If so, he was sadly mistaken and his men were in for a rude awakening.

* * *

They were easily picking off the mountain men with arrows and throwing daggers and Lexa was feeling confident that this fight would soon be over. But then, to her horror, she saw that Anya had been hit by a stray bullet as the last of them had died, firing wildly. She hopped off her horse and ran over to her, heedless of the pain this was inflicting on her throbbing calf, yelling for Nyko to come. Blood was pooling around Anya's chest and Lexa clamped her hands over the wound, attempting to stem the flow.

Quickly, Nyko ripped her shirt and examined the damage. "The bullet has passed through. I do not believe anything of importance was hit. She should recover. But I need to sear her wounds closed before she loses more of her life's blood."

Hands coated in slippery crimson, she did her best to assist him, applying continuous pressure as the torch was held low while the blade was made ready. The other warriors had formed a protective barrier around them, lest someone else attack. When it finally glowed an orange red, he removed it from the flame and Lexa hastily pulled off a belt and wedged it between her comrades slackened jaw. Along with another warrior, Lexa braced Anya securely as Nyko sent flesh searing. The acrid smell made Lexa's stomach turn, much as it had on the killing field, much as it always did when the dead were set free. After turning her over and repeating the process, a muffled, groaning and lightly shaking Anya was laid flat on her back.

The trying task completed, Lexa calmed down slightly, removing the indented belt and grasping Anya's hand.

"You did well," she said to her.

The older woman opened her eyes and squeezed, smirking.

Then without warning her face and body became rigid as it spasmed and went slack.

"Anya!" she exclaimed in alarm, shaking her. "Do something!" she demanded of Nyko when that produced no result.

Nyko pressed his bloodied fingertips to her neck and shook his head.

Lexa would not give up so easily. She looked to the heavens as if in prayer and fervently said, "Clarke! I need you!" Her prayer was answered a few seconds later as a dopey looking Clarke made an appearance. "She's not breathing!"

"I know what to do," Clarke said, wide eyed but alert now.

Without more communication, Clarke inhabited her body, threading Lexa's hands so that one was over top the other and then began rhythmically and rapidly pressing on Anya's chest, arms straight and secure. After about thirty compressions she tilted Anya's head back, plugged her nose and blew twice into her mouth. Her warriors watched in fascination and confusion as their leader repeated this process several more times until Anya jerked upright, coughing and gasping for air. Their astonishment was plain to see and it was no wonder, their commander had just brought someone back from the dead.

Sweaty and exhausted, Clarke collapsed on her rear end, laughing through Lexa in accomplishment and celebration. With so much excitement on so little sleep, Clarke was unable to stop herself from acting a little silly towards their antagonizer.

"You owe me so bad when we finally meet in person," she giddily said to Anya in Trigedasleng, forgetting there were literally dozens of Lexa's people in ear shot. Once more they were puzzled by their commanders actions, and murmurs and looks ran through those assembled.

"Lexa?" pondered aloud the wheezing, semi-conscious woman.

"Guess again," Clarke grinned at her.

_Clarke_! said a small irritated voice in the back of their shared mind.

"Clarke?" said a disbelieving Anya.

Clarke grinned even wider, tapped Lexa's nose and said "Bingo," in English because there was no 'sleng equivalent. "Looks like your brain's still functioning as well as it ever was."

Anya glared at that backhanded comment and tried to sit up, but Nyko gently kept her in place.

_Clarke! Enough! She is not well!_

When Clarke didn't immediately give up her body, Lexa forcefully kicked her out and barred her from future visitations. While grateful for Clarke's aid, she couldn't have her acting like a child in her body, especially not in present company. Besides being embarrassing, it was distracting, and therefore dangerous. And there was still work to be done.

Lexa sent Anya back to camp along with a few others for support and protection and then led her army the rest of the way to the Mountain's closest tunnel entrance.

* * *

Just like before the Skaikru massacre, she knew something was amiss within minutes of being in the dark and foreboding pathways. Not a single sound beyond her own troops movement was heard, not a single reaper had come out of the shadows to attack. As far as Lexa knew, this sort of behaviour was unheard of by the monsters. If the Maunon had killed them all, surely the bodies would still be strewn? So if they weren't dead, then _where_ were they?

The answer was received as they neared the reaper door. The high pitched frequency was reverberating through and engulfing the cavern here, source unseen. By the time she saw the trip wire, it was too late. Her horse stepped through a low hanging string and the instant it did, the sound stopped, and with it the disgruntled noise of many bodies rising from the ground somewhere around the bend.

Lexa raised a hand to stop her people and descended from the horse, not relishing the resurgence of weight on her injured calf. But this was a necessity. She fully expected the animal would have thrown her otherwise at such overwhelming fright. Just the whine of the tone generator had been making the mare anxious. The horse with no name was wedged past her warriors and towards the back, so as to be as unobtrusive as possible.

"Prepare yourselves!" she yelled needlessly to the uneasy warriors behind her.

Her own sword aloft, she did her best to remain calm and clear headed at the savage foes that would soon be upon them. Her previous nightmarish encounter was still vividly etched in her mind, making her palms sweat, and this time Anya would not be coming to her rescue. It was times like these that she wished she had excelled at bow and arrow use. Those swift on their feet could avoid physical contact altogether. Not that she would be very swift on her feet.

She would have sent others ahead of her but that would be seen as weakness. The commander was supposed to be nigh on impossible to kill, an eternal flame burning for the benefit of guiding them ever onward.

The roars and heavy footfalls were fast approaching now, and she steadied herself one last time.

* * *

The onslaught had consisted of nearly twenty reapers. All was chaos for the first few seconds of contact and then her people surged ahead and did fearsome battle. She herself only managed to kill a few of the monsters at the forefront, but it was plenty for her nerves.

Within a very short span of time, the battle was over, the stench of death and blood far more thick than in the open aired killing field. She almost felt suffocated by it and was more than happy to press towards the damn door that would finally grant them the access she had long since sought.

About thirty of her people were wounded, but only seven more dead. She considered that rather remarkable considering the less than ideal circumstances and cramped quarters. Among the wounded was Indra. Movements dulled by her previous bullet wound, she was unable to defend herself against a slash across her back. She should not have advanced with them, but Lexa was once more unable to stop her indomitable spirit and thirst for revenge.

Being unconscious the last time the Maunon dragged her here, she did not know the code for the reaper door. So she simply smashed the number pad with the edge of her sword, sparks flew, an alarm went off, but the door opened. They were well past the point of subtlety.

Lexa received a tremendous chill as they traversed the decontamination chamber, all of the horrors visited upon her coming back in one fell swoop. Her army was far more enraged by the chains and the odd implements scattered around than unnerved. And with good reason, none of them had experienced first hand the pain and terror inflicted here.

The unusually cool and white hallway stretched out before them, and Lexa led her people towards the elevator. Once they were there, she pulled out the white card she had taken off of one of the guards and prepared to use it. However, before she could, a voice spoke over the intercom system, stilling her hand.

"Hold your horses there, commander," said the unknown male, most likely Cage.

She ignored the nonsensical nature of this statement and looked up and over to the box with holes in it and then over to the camera beside it, the red blinking light glaring down evilly.

"You're going to march that army of yours out of here right now, or I'm going to try my hand at Tondc again."

Everyone around her was displeased, but probably not for the reason Cage assumed.

Lexa simply stared into the camera and smirked before applying the card to the panel, the red light turning green and the doors parting.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded. "Didn't you hear what I just said?! I'll kill them all! Stop! Don't go in there! You're not allowed to!" he whined as she and five other heavily armoured warriors crammed into the elevator. It sluggishly rode the six levels to the top floor, the maximum weight limit all but exceeded.

The doors parted and they were ready for the remaining guards that attempted to gun them down, daggers lodging in various parts before the men could get clean shots off. Lexa stepped past the two men who had originally plotted to kill her after she was captured. One was still alive, gasping for air and she simply left him like that, not sparing a second glance. She didn't know how many more soldiers Cage had at his disposal, but she was pretty sure the numbers were far less than her own meagre score.

Briefly she visualized where the control room was located and then cocked her head in the correct direction. As they made their way there, Cage came back on the intercom, surprisingly composed.

"I've initiated the launch sequence," he said smugly. "By the time you get here, they'll all be dead."

Even if she wanted to run, she couldn't because of her throbbing, nearly impossible to stand on, calf. Assuming Cage's threat was real, it would be a blow, but not something they couldn't come back from.

The rest of the way there was uneventful. For a second she was taken aback by the large hole in the wall, where the door used to be. She was grateful to Dante for at least attempting to stop this man from massacring her people. Thankfully fate had intervened and that hadn't happened (at least as far as the Maunon were concerned). Nor would it now.

Cage held a gun at the jagged hole, firing twice to discourage entry.

"It's over bitch!" he yelled. "The missile's already launched!" He fired a few more times as he uttered his next death threat. "So why don't you just die like the rest of them!"

Rather than respond in words, she held out her hand and Indra placed the device in it. Lexa pulled the pin and nonchalantly threw the canister into the room, a red smoke quickly billowing and surrounding the lone figure.

"What the-" he said coughing, and then collapsed.

* * *

When Cage came to, he was momentarily disoriented, and with good reason. They had brought him down to the harvesting chamber and hung him upside down, devoid of clothing except for his underwear, and Indra had just socked him in the gut to rouse him. He coughed and sputtered for a time. As soon as he realized his predicament, he began to squirm like the filthy snake he was, to no avail.

Just behind Lexa and stretching down the middle of the cages stood the near totality of the warriors who had not perished during the reaper attack. The ones in bad condition were sitting or leaning close by. They would have the first opportunity to take their vengeance.

"You can bleed me all you want!" yelled Cage. "It won't change the fact that I killed them all!"

Lexa observed him coldly and then vaguely amused. "You may have launched another missile, Cage, perhaps even destroyed the village, but you did not harm a single one of my people."

This startled him and his eyes bulged insanely. "What do you mean?" he barked, somewhat unhinged. "How could you possibly know..." He closed his eyes, grimacing in sudden realization. "You evacuated them, didn't you?"

The cold, intimidating look returned. "They were miles away from Tondc by the time you attempted their slaughter...again." The merest whisper of a growl escaped her lips. If she had her way she would simply slit his throat right here and now and be done with it, but there were traditions to uphold and after decades of suffering, her people would not be denied.

"So now what?" he sneered, glancing around at the impassive faces surrounding him. "Are you going to torture me like the savages I always said you were? That my father denied?"

His father? Ah, so this man was Dante's son. How fitting. She almost asked him whether the elder yet lived, but decided against it. Now was not the time. If he _were_ alive, she would eventually find him afterwards...to what end though? She would just have to kill him too.

"Yes, Cage of the Mountain Men," she said indifferently, retrieving her dagger, "that is _exactly_ what is going to happen now."

He remained brave and silent until the third cut and then the screaming began.

* * *

Cage's heavily mutilated and bled corpse was tossed down the chute and then Lexa left the harvesting chamber with Indra to discuss their next move.

"We kill them all," said the injured General matter of factly. "Our people expect no less. To suggest otherwise would be seen as weakness. Blood must have blood."

For a moment or two Lexa was thoughtful. "No, we do not kill them all."

Indra bristled and hissed, "Commander, that is a most unwise decision. Those that are left alive will surely seek retribution."

"There may be innocents here..."

Indra scoffed.

"...and they do not deserve to die for the sins of their parents."

"So you will orphan the children and leave them to fend for themselves?" suggested Indra stony faced.

There were far too many of her own people who had been orphaned (herself included), she would not lay that fate on anyone else, not even her most hated foes.

"Perhaps there are those that did not agree with the bleeding of our people...perhaps they can be trusted to oversee the young ones."

Indra gave her a dubious look, but then said, "Perhaps, commander. But how will we determine these...caregivers? Those who are about to die will say anything and deny their complicity."

Again, she was thoughtful for some moments. "We will gather all the adults into one room and simply ask who among them received our blood. If they all protest, we will threaten to kill the children. That should be sufficient enough to discern the liars from the truthsayers."

Her General did not seem very convinced. "And if there are none left to care for the children, what then?"

_I don't know._

"There will be," she said with as much conviction as she could muster in her beleaguered state.

* * *

By the time the mountain's affairs were in order and her people left, it was morning once more. Lexa could not remember the last time she had been so utterly exhausted, worn down to the soul, her very essence. She was sure she could sleep for days. If not for the remaining Skaikru issue, she probably would have.

As it was, she slumped forward on her horse on their way back to Tondc, or whatever was left of it. A modicum of sense was restored to her upon Clarke's welcome reappearance in the snug space before her. Lexa rested her weary head on top of Clarke's, kissing her hair, as was her wont. It was far sandier than she recalled but Lexa refrained from spitting out the coarse grains that got in her mouth.

"Forgive me for keeping you away, Clarke," she murmured.

Clarke reached down and touched her knee. "I'm the one who should be apologizing, Lexa, I was behaving like a moron."

"Yes, you were."

The response was a light whack on the leg. A slight smile came unbidden.

"Did you succeed?"

Lexa nodded into the top of her head. "The Mountain is no more."

_Or at least, not in the capacity it once was_.

"How does that feel?"

Lexa mustered up a wide spectrum of emotions, ranging from complacency to euphoria, from overwhelmed to invigorated, from despondency to tranquillity, from vindication to uncertainty...

A tiny gasp escaped Clarke's lips. "Is that all?" she asked dryly.

Despite herself, she chuckled weakly.

Then she realized something else. It was not blistering hot wherever Clarke currently was. This perked her up still further. "Clarke, where are you?"

She couldn't see the smile, but she felt it all the same. "Oh well, after all of the Murphy excitement, my people couldn't really sleep. So after a few hours rest we decided to push on again, take advantage of the reduced heat." The smile widened. "We've been in the forest for about an hour now. Gotta say, it's even more amazing in person than it is through you." She squeezed Lexa's knee. "That's kind of the reason I'm here-"

"You need further direction." Clarke nodded against her. Lexa willed herself to where Clarke was perched on a log, scanning in a circle for any familiar landmarks. She found the Sky People resting some distance away, and then heard the faint flow of fast moving water. "Take me to the stream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hopefully that's the end of the mountain drama...I am so done with it. You?
> 
> What's funny is I was originally stuck with how Lexa could risk pushing ahead once they got to the elevator, and it was super serious and hopeless, until I realized that Lexa isn't an idiot or unravelling like Cage. And then it turned him into a complete farce and non threat, which I think is what he really was at his core all along.
> 
> In case you're wondering why Clarke didn't just inhabit Lexa's body shortly after Anya found out to try and prove that she was real, it's because doing so would hardly have helped their cause. Yes, Anya may have been more inclined to believe, but she would also have been more inclined to tell the clan leaders that a stranger could take over their leader at will and do and say anything at any time. Which is far more dangerous than if Lexa was only able to talk to this other person.
> 
> I also contemplated having angry Clarke manifesting as a ghost to outsiders...but since she isn't physically there, that didn't make any sense.
> 
> Anyway, I'll hopefully get the next chap up faster and hopefully have them finally finally meeting in person.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was determined to have them meet this chap, but then also introduced a new character for some reason, so it ended up being super long. Hope that's okay.

After refilling their water bottles in the stream, the arkers followed its downward course for some miles. Then they turned off into the forest again and crunched through an endless sea of orange and red leaves, no apparent trail in sight. Once more there were murmurs amongst the sky people. They didn't understand how Clarke knew where she was going, but they didn't outwardly question it anymore. Not after she had taken them out of the fiery expanses of sand and constant thirst. Yes, they were incredibly tired, and almost dead on their feet, but their confident leader urged them on, promising it wasn't much farther.

However, when this trek resulted in them coming across nothing more than a large cave, they began to have their doubts, and apparently so too did Clarke. The golden haired girl looked at them all, clenched her fists and then stalked off some distance away from them. No one was dumb enough to follow, not even her parents, and they all just plopped down on the crispy leaves and dirt and quietly talked amongst themselves, fully expecting that sooner or later she would return from her nonsensical ranting. She always did.

"What the hell is this?!" Clarke hissed at Lexa, who was standing there unconcernedly as if nothing was amiss. "Where have you taken us?!"

She heard the clip clop of the horses as Lexa's people continued to make their way back to the drop ship, where she had believed they were headed.

"Your people will be sheltered from the coming storm."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" shouted Clarke to such an annoying response. She had gotten up close and personal with Lexa's face, and under different circumstances she would have been tempted to kiss her. As it was, she was fuming and was more likely to shake, than embrace her. "It's like you're purposely trying to keep me away!"

"I am, Clarke," Lexa replied, meeting her too close gaze head on, unblinking.

"What?!" she snapped in surprise and sadness. Clarke took a step back, shaking. "Why?"

"My people will demand justice for the massacre. Traditionally this would mean one life for every one extinguished."

Lexa didn't need to spell it out for her any more than that. If the Trikru upheld tradition, a lot of her own people were going to die, slowly and in agony. There was something to be said for floating after all.

Heart pounding, Clarke took another step back, running her hands through her frizzy and sandy hair. She was dusty and dirty and reeked again, and wished she had tried to clean herself in the cold stream, like some of the others had. Instead she had spent the time conversing with Lexa, who's own odour left something to be desired. Half the time she couldn't even tell which smells were coming from whom.

"You have to stop them, Lexa," she finally managed, voice tremulous. She looked up through a patch of canopy, into the darkening sky. "Otherwise their sacrifice was for nothing."

Lexa cast her eyes down momentarily in that peculiar, though endearing, non-nod of hers. "I will do my best to dissuade such extreme vengeance, but I do not know how successful I will be. Nor do I desire to grant them complete leniency." Her expression darkened, the effect magnified by the freshly applied kohl around her eyes. The previous coating of blood had been washed off. "Make no mistake, Clarke, blood will be shed."

This announcement was chilling in and of itself, but it was the iciness that physically seeped through that caused Clarke to shudder. As much as she tried to deny it, sometimes Lexa really scared her. And now that this hardness was going to be bestowed on her own people, Clarke was afraid it could damage their relationship. Still, she was concerned for Lexa's welfare too.

"How much of a risk is this for you?" she asked, taking Lexa's hands, wishing her damn bandages could come off so that she could feel Lexa properly. "What if they see your mercy as weakness?"

"I have just defeated both the Ice Nation and the Mountain Men in the span of a day, Clarke, something almost beyond belief. I can hardly comprehend it myself. I imagine at this point there are few brave enough to threaten my life..." her lips twitched, but her eyes remained hard, "out loud, and even fewer who would dare act on the impulse."

The clopping of the horses came to a halt.

"We are here," said Lexa, turning her head slightly and looking past her. "You should take refuge and stay away."

"We both know that's not gonna happen," she said defiantly, even though her insides were squirming in apprehension.

Of course Lexa could sense that her words were backed by weakness, but she simply stared at Clarke and nodded.

The killing field had been substantially altered since her last visitation. The pungent, macabre smells were still very much present, but the piles of covered bodies were now neatly resting around a multitude of funeral pyre's (the Ice Nation ones were stacked off to the side, along with their shields). She watched as Octavia, Bellamy and a few others put the finishing touches on the last one, hoisting the final bodies into place. They had long since run out of linens to cover the corpses, and were handling the rotting flesh as lightly as possible, clearly trying not to gag.

It looked as though someone (probably the Blake's) had rallied up more of her people to accomplish this sizable task, who were currently contemplating the fruits of their labour. It was hardly an accomplishment to be celebrated, and thankfully no one did, only bowed heads could be periodically seen.

Clarke wasn't sure how Lexa's people were going to take this development. It was one thing to be allowed to cut wood, it was another to handle their sacred dead, dead that _they_ had been the cause of. And sure enough there were yells of outrage and many of them stepped forward, only to be stopped by the raised hand of their leader.

Octavia and Bellamy (and some of the adults too) boldly approached the commander, still astride her nameless horse, looking her usual fearsome self. Neither was armed with any kind of weapon, not that it would have done them much good. To draw a weapon in the commanders immediate presence meant instant death. However, an armed guard _could_ be seen around the perimeter of the killing field, watching. Kane was still nowhere to be found.

Lexa employed her tactic of not speaking first, waiting for her adversary to become unnerved and make the first move. It worked to comic effect. Octavia abruptly stopped about ten paces back, bowed awkwardly, and still bowed, nudged her brother to do the same. If possible, Bellamy was lacking in grace even more. They remained bowed for far too long, so that Clarke could see the strain in their backs and necks, and not surprisingly, they began peeking up at Lexa, hoping she would say something. It dawned on Clarke that they probably didn't know _how_ to address her in words, having never heard her title used. Better to stay quiet than risk offence of a hundred terrifying looking warriors.

Outwardly Lexa looked stoic and unaffected, inwardly she was incredibly amused and Clarke had to stifle a laugh. Finally the Blake siblings couldn't take it anymore and stretched upright, sharing a look with each other like, 'should we get the hell out of here?'

Not ones to back down, they stood their ground.

The unbearable tension caused Octavia to snap. "I hope you got that bitch queen real good!"

Bellamy looked rather embarrassed as he formally said, "I think what my sister is _trying_ to say, is that we are incredibly saddened and sorry for our role in your people's deaths. Had we known better, we never would have opened fire on them. Our people beg your forgiveness."

The warriors behind Lexa jeered insults in Trigedasleng, and stepped forward again. Again, Lexa raised a hand to create utter silence.

"I cannot offer that to you," she said coolly. "Too much blood has been shed, whether in error or not." She intentionally paused overly long before continuing with, "I can however grant you all clean deaths."

A combination of appreciation and dismay resounded. They were likely expecting a show. Clarke cringed at the prospect and their undying thirst for brutal retribution. Hadn't they gotten enough of that yet? Then again, she supposed these were not the same ones from the mountain. Though she had not been there, Clarke had no allusions as to what Lexa's people had gotten up to in there. During her month inhabiting their camp from afar, she had seen first hand what Lexa's people did to traitors or thieves or rapists. The latter's punishment was too grotesque for words, and just thinking about it sent Clarke's stomach off.

"Please," pleaded Bellamy. "Have mercy...there are many children here and..."

"We saved your life," finished Octavia for him, glaring at Lexa.

Lexa observed them coldly for a time, but it was Indra that reacted.

The wounded General got off her horse angrily, stepped through Clarke, and drew a sword. "Something that was only necessary _because_ of your actions. I will gut you for even attempting to-"

"Enough!"

Indra faced off with Octavia for several moments before glowering and relenting to her commanding officers wishes.

"My previous offer _was_ merciful," she said, unmoved, eliciting unkind laughter.

"We trusted you!" exclaimed Octavia. "You said you came here on Jaha's behalf to _protect_ us!"

Most of Lexa's people appeared confused by this statement, and with good reason.

"That was before I knew what your people were capable of. Forming alliances with those just met to slaughter unknowing people, is detestable, dishonourable behaviour, and should be stamped out."

Lexa's cold demeanour was not just for show. Clarke could feel it within and was beginning to fear for her people's safety.

"Lexa..."

Octavia stomped a foot in frustration. "If you kill us all, then you're exactly like the queen said you were! Just another heartless bitch! And you _deserved_ to die!"

Not surprisingly that got a lot of the warriors riled up and it was with some difficulty that Lexa calmed them down and kept them in check, Indra especially.

"You are either very brave or very foolish to speak so, Octavia of the Sky People." Her expression softened ever so slightly. "I have no desire to kill innocents. The children will be sparred."

The Blake's and the adults behind them visibly relaxed, that is, until Lexa's next words were uttered.

"In return for my mercy, you will hand over half of your shooters and the one you call Kane. He will undergo the full extent of Trikru justice. Anyone who tries to interfere will pay with their life. Upon his death by a thousand cuts, we may consider a truce, and honour Jaha's request." She let that sink in for a bit. "If these terms are not agreeable to you, I will orphan every last one of the children. The animals will take care of them soon after."

There really was nothing to think about but the Blake's insisted on having some time to confer with their people. Lexa gave them one hour to make their decision.

In the meantime, the heaven's opened and poured down on the pyre's and Lexa's unmoving army, solid as the shields that had almost been their undoing. The clearing was fast becoming a mud pit.

Some of the people in the cave went out into the storm, just to feel the rain on their skin for the first time. When they came back in, they quickly turned from wonder to complaint. Whereas before they were too hot, now they were too cold. Clarke was reminded of an ancient fairy tale with bears and a golden haired girl with no common sense.

She shook the thought, hugged her knees tighter for warmth and quietly said to her dad, "Lexa's given them a choice. I'm pretty sure they'll accept her offer." _They have to_. Briefly, Clarke explained what that entailed.

"That girl of yours drives a hard bargain...but it's nothing more than we ourselves would have demanded." He grimaced. "Well, I suppose it _is_ harsher punishment than floating. Cutting people until..." he shivered.

Clarke felt it necessary to come to Lexa's defence. Perhaps it was also to reassure herself as well. "She doesn't enjoy torturing people, dad, but it's her people's way, and has been for a really long time. If she tried to go against it, they'd just kill her _and_ everyone else, anyway. If anyone's the victim here, it's Lexa. She was born into this role and can never escape it." _Except through death_...

"You'd think the commander would be the one person who _could_ make new rules," mused her dad in a vaguely amused manner.

"Yeah, cause all of our past Chancellors have been _so_ eager to change things up," she retaliated sarcastically. "How many times was someone floated for stealing medicine for their sick kid?"

Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and at first she stiffened against the touch, but as always relaxed. He kissed the side of her head. "Clarke, I _know_ how hard it is to create change. People have been resistant to it since the beginning of time. It's human nature to fear the unknown."

She was about to respond when the downpour was momentarily halted by a small dark figure dashing into the cave. On high alert, their two 'guards' held their pistols at the soaked cloaked person. Everyone held their breath as they lowered their hood and shook out their thick mane of hair.

"Who goes there?" asked the braver of the two, one of her dad's engineering friends she'd forgotten the name of. The other one shined a light in their direction.

When the beam hit her face, she froze and then turned to leave. Several people had gasped at the sight of the bulbous, twisted, and all around grotesque nose.

Being one of the last ones into the cave of closely huddled people, Clarke was in relatively close proximity to the girl considering the size of their enclosure, and the desire to stay out of the blowing elements.

"Hod op!" she called, pushing to her feet, but keeping her distance. "Don't be afraid," she continued in Trigedasleng.

The little girl stared at her strange clothing, lack of markings, and then the guns and odd artificial light, clearly confused. So too were Clarke's people. It almost seemed as if this child could understand the gibberish their leader had been spouting all this time.

"Put those guns away," she ordered a bit too harshly, her voice reverberating briefly before being cut off by a boom of thunder. Once they had lowered the weapons, Clarke turned back to the child, bending over so as to be more at a height with her and therefore less intimidating. "Ai laik Klark kom Skaikru. Who are you?"

Almost shyly, the shivering girl replied, "Ai laik Meesha...I have no clan."

Clarke smiled gently, taking a step closer. The girl backed off, retrieving a small blade from her sleeve. For a second Clarke had deja vu with Murphy, but then she held her hands out complacently. "It's okay, Meesha, we mean you no harm. You don't have to be afraid. You can stay for as long as you want and dry off. We have blankets...and food. Would you like some?"

The child seemed almost more startled by this proposition than the guns, as if no one had ever shown her a single measure of kindness. She couldn't have been more than six, perhaps even younger. The thought thoroughly saddened Clarke and she had a strong urge to hug her, but refrained, knowing it would only make her run away and/or stab her.

Meesha debated what to do for a time, her face scrunched up in contemplation. If not for the hideous nose, she would have been quite adorable. Despite the fact that her dark curly hair was unkempt and frazzled and had probably never been cut in her life, it was still luscious and beautiful. It was unfortunate that her disfigurement was so prominently on display. It was difficult not to stare and be constantly repulsed.

Finally the thin girl nodded and took a couple of tentative steps closer to Clarke, warily eyeing everyone else, her little dirt caked hand clutching the knife still. The sight was heartbreaking and Clarke could only imagine how difficult her life had been.

When the girl was as near as she was going to get, Clarke leaned over, yanking off the thermal blanket she had loaned to one of the people enjoying the rain. The girl seemed equal parts scared and intrigued by its dim metallic shimmer, and would not accept it. So Clarke sat down and blindly rifled in the backpack for something to eat instead. She pulled out some freeze dried synthetic meat, opened the package, and ripped off a morsel. Like lightning, Meesha snatched the proffered bit and darted away to the other side of the large cave, something like an animal might do. She hunched down, sniffing at it, making a face. Clarke took a piece and popped it into her mouth. When she didn't immediately perish, the girl decided it must not be poisonous, even though it didn't smell quite right, and copied Clarke.

Meesha spat it out and glared over at her, as if she had just stupidly fallen for a trick.

"Yeah, I know, it's not very good," said Clarke in 'sleng. "I had a similar reaction when I was your age. But you get used to the taste. Thankfully you don't have to eat much to feel full." She ate another piece, even though she really wasn't hungry.

The girl picked up the piece of discarded 'meat' and cautiously tried to eat it again. Meesha made another face but didn't spit it out. Clarke held a larger piece of meat out for the girl and she scampered over, knife back up her sleeve. With this food in hand, she didn't move quite as far away.

"Do you have someone that looks after you?" Clarke asked as the girl bit into the tough strip with less than ideal teeth. It was clear she didn't brush often and Clarke figured she didn't have access to the usual Trikru cleaning instruments.

Meesha nodded, but didn't elaborate. Clarke wasn't sure if it was due to the food in her mouth or because she didn't want to say something she shouldn't. The Trikru were known to be secretive amongst themselves, and even more so with strangers. This girl was clearly one of the exiles, who were supposed to be banished to the dead zone. Whoever was associated with her could get into a lot of trouble.

"Where are they?"

"Not here," Meesha replied cheekily, grinning slightly.

Clarke smiled back, already starting to fall in love with this poor soul.

Somewhat unexpectedly the girl said, "Do you have parents?"

Clarke swallowed at the inquisitive, but sad tone of her voice. "Yes, this is my father," she said, placing a hand on his leg. He waved at the child, smiling. Clarke pointed a little ways away. "And over there is my mother."

Abby was watching their interaction in clinical fascination. Could Jake be right? Had Clarke been communicating with someone else this whole time? Was she actually speaking a real language? But how did she learn to speak it so fluently, so quickly?

Meesha glanced at Abby but looked back at Jake. "Your father has kind eyes."

"Yes," agreed Clarke, "he does."

"You have kind eyes too, like..." she caught herself just as she was about to make a mistake. She smirked, "the one who isn't here."

"I'm glad you have someone like that."

"How can you live in the sky, Clarke," Meesha said, scooching over a little closer, "when you are here?"

"Well, we _used_ to live up there, but we came down a couple of days ago. Our home was no longer safe."

She was almost in reach now. "My homes are never safe for very long either. I have to move to a new one every few days."

Again it was a struggle not to scoop the child up and never let her go.

"Why?" she asked through the hard lump in her throat. "Is someone after you?"

Meesha shrugged. "I don't know. That's just what...what I have been told to do...what I have always done for as long as I can remember."

By now the food was devoured and the girl was standing up, raising her hood. It was still pouring out. Clarke didn't want her to go yet - especially in such adverse conditions- she had barely gotten a chance to know her, and they would probably never meet again.

"You should stay until it clears."

Meesha shook her head. "I must go now. Thank you for the food, Clarke," Meesha grinned, "even though it was gross."

And without another word, she dashed out into the thundering storm and disappeared.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Clarke's people decided to submit to Lexa's demands. As they prodded a dejected Kane through the mud, they passed closely by a number of pyre's. When he caught sight of one of the exposed people's faces, he suddenly broke down, collapsing in the grime, releasing torrents of pent up emotion. The violent wind and rain were too loud to make out what he was saying, but it was clear that he regretted what had come to pass.

It was too little, too late for sympathy, and even though Clarke hated the man, she found herself still feeling bad about what he would soon endure. She didn't wish that kind of end on anyone, with maybe the exception of the Wallace's.

They handed off half their guard and Kane to Lexa's side of the field. A line of warriors were already waiting for them.

"Let this be a lesson to all those that dare defy me!" boomed Lexa loud enough to be heard by the sky people close at hand. "Frag em op!"

Almost as one, the quivering men were run through with a single savage blow to the chest. The Blake's and the others present were horrified at the sudden violence, but didn't try to do anything stupid in retaliation.

"Teik em set raun ona tri!"

One of the warriors grabbed a sobbing Kane by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the waiting tree. Clarke didn't stick around to see what came next.

* * *

Shortly after the rain stopped, Lexa appeared to her. "It is done," she said wearily, war paint running down all the way down to her chin.

Even though Lexa had just killed some of her people, Clarke stepped closer and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry you had to do that...again."

Lexa sighed, holding on tightly, but not too tightly. They stayed that way for awhile, consoling through shared emotion. "Once the bodies are burned and the pain of the past is behind us, we can begin to rebuild our relationship. Maybe even become allies."

"I hope you're right, Lexa, I couldn't bear it if our people became enemies. I couldn't bear it if I couldn't be near you always."

Lexa pulled back, stroking her face. "You're always near me, Clarke."

"I know," Clarke said, playing with the end of one of her wet braids, "but it'd be nice to be around you for once without having people think I'm crazy."

Lexa nodded, a tiny smile spreading. "Come then, Clarke, there isn't much farther to go."

* * *

Not much farther turned out to be ten miles, but Clarke had barely noticed the distance, so consumed was she with the joy of their long awaited meeting.

It was surreal to be in a place she had been before, but never actually stepped foot in, especially one filled with so much hurt and horror. But it was far more surreal to be in the presence of someone she had shared so much of herself with, that she had given her heart to.

One second Lexa was walking beside her, the next she was rising from a makeshift throne, gesturing for her warriors to both stand down and get out of her way.

Clarke's people hung back, unnerved by the dismal sight all around, and the frightening woman moving ever closer, stride purposeful and determined, despite the fact that her calf was still throbbing dully, and her boots were sticking in the mud. A blast of pure emotion swept through her as their eyes met for real, and it took everything she had not to run over and throw herself into Lexa's arms. Such a display might have unintended consequences.

Judging by Lexa's quickened pace, and internal excitement, she was also struggling to maintain some level of decorum in front of her warriors. The closer they got to one another, the harder it became to control themselves, and Clarke was unable to keep the smile off her face, or still the beating of her pounding heart. Lexa was furiously trying to keep her face stoic, and the knowledge that she was doing 'a happy dance' inside was almost enough to make Clarke laugh in her face, her perfect, impossibly beautiful face, with eyes that could literally pierce her soul. Equally happy herself, she almost started to cry, which almost made Lexa cry.

"Le-Commander," she said thickly, eyes glistening over. It was the first time she had used such a formality and it felt strange on her tongue. She didn't care for it one bit.

"Clarke," Lexa said, physically trying to swallow down the emotion, and keep it at bay. This tactic wasn't working very well, especially after how high strung and over tired they had both been in the last couple of days.

They stood a couple of feet apart, straining valiantly against the monstrous tension to touch, like two tides pulling endlessly against one another. Their rapid breaths were exposed with every puff of fog between them, drifting together, coalescing.

"My people request permission to pass."

She congratulated herself on managing to form coherent words, and to have a barely noticeable waver in her voice.

Lexa's watery eyes kept darting up and down from her lips to her eyes. She swallowed hard some more. "They have it." She cocked her head towards those keeping vigilance and told them to move.

Most of her people went timidly ahead, but a number of them waited behind, curious to see what might happen next.

The tension and swirling emotions were becoming so vast that she couldn't stop herself from reaching out. She quickly redirected her arm towards the pyre's. "How long do you think it'll be before the wood is dry enough to light?"

"Some hours yet, probably not till tomorrow," replied Lexa, who was now exclusively staring at her lips, with a death grip on the hilt of her sword. "The colder weather inhibits its ability to dry," she added logically, albeit pointlessly.

Frantically, losing her last strands of composure and sense, she said something completely inane. "Your eyes are really, really green."

Not only was that a dumb thing to say, it wasn't even strictly true in this particular moment. Lexa's pupils were much more black than anything else.

"Your eyes are also very green," whispered Lexa stupidly.

"Oh for fuck's sake," muttered an exasperated Raven. "Just kiss already!"

The words served as the necessary trigger to forget themselves completely, and they collided with one another like their first and only sexual experience in the shower. Except this time everything was heightened. Every sensation, every touch, every caress of their lips was enhanced three fold and was making Clarke moan lowly, and Lexa to gasp sporadically as she pulled Clarke far too tight against her bruised and beaten body, heedless of dislodging the various poultices just beneath her armour. She was completely overwhelmed by the unreality of it all, and the tears finally began to silently flow, moistening every hungry kiss between them.

"Cla...rke?" said Abby in shock at seeing her daughter vigorously make out with some bedraggled amazonian woman. This couldn't be the same person she was in love with, right? She looked to Jake who had his gaze averted slightly, obviously embarrassed by his daughter's overt display of affection, but nevertheless grinning stupidly from ear to ear, clearly happy that Clarke was happy. Abby relaxed a bit. Well, maybe it wasn't that big a deal after all. Better Clarke be in love with this real live person than a made up one. Still...her choice in companion _was_ questionable...

"Hot damn," laughed Raven. "Should've let her kiss me when I had the chance."

Finn frowned at his girlfriend's response, not for the first time in recent days. Did she like chicks too? Had their separation caused a rift? He figured he'd just need to get her alone and then put her into a sex coma to fix whatever problems they had...assuming they even existed that is...which of course they didn't.

"Commander," said Indra uncertainly. "This is not the place for such...exploits. The warriors are becoming agitated at your embrace of this...sky girl."

Neither of them heard her and Clarke moaned louder as Lexa's hands slid down her sides, over her hip bones and just underneath her ass. Then she found herself being lifted off the ground, something she had never been able to experience before, and she instinctively began wrapping her legs around the small of Lexa's back. The added weight made Lexa grunt, and then a sudden and intense stabbing pain shot through them, and Lexa violently dropped both of them into the mud, both elements quite effectively awakening them from their love and lust filled haze.

They blinked in confusion at one another, tears still freely flowing. Clarke's face was thoroughly smudged with war paint and flecks of mud, and Lexa's was little better. When the ridiculousness of their appearances and behaviour registered, they simultaneously burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

Indra stiffened at the improbable and disturbing sound coming from her ruthless leader, shook her head and stalked away, muttering something about troublesome sky girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven is us. Lol.
> 
> Fired up Octavia saying rude things to Lexa? Yay or nay?
> 
> Was Lexa's punishment too harsh? Not harsh enough? Is anyone actually sad that I tortured and killed Kane off? Do you think there was any other way?
> 
> Thoughts on Meesha?
> 
> Was the meeting everything you could've hoped for? Or did I screw the pooch on this one?


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what this chapter even is...but have at it.

Free from the tedious and awkward introductions that followed their uncharacteristic display, Lexa led Clarke to her tent, amid grumblings of her own people. Once inside they simply stared at one another in open wonderment, touching each others arms and faces, reassuring themselves that this indeed wasn't all just a very vivid dream. This innocent contact quickly gave rise to something more, and if not for another groan of pain from Lexa, they most certainly would have fallen into bed together, the same bed Clarke had been so enamoured with upon her first seconds on Earth.

"I'm sorry, Lexa," Clarke said, biting her lip. Lexa _really_ wished she wouldn't do that. "I swear I'm not purposely trying to hurt you."

"I know, Clarke," she replied, tearing her gaze away from Clarke's lips to meet warm, concerned eyes. "Don't blame yourself for my discomfort."

Chuckling sadly, Clarke placed her forehead to Lexa's. "Everything's so damn difficult with us."

_You have no idea._

"It's not fair."

_Life's not fair, Clarke._

"No, it's not."

And then because Lexa was gaining the urge to grab Clarke to her wounded chest and bruised ribs again, she used the last reserves of her will power to move to the other side of the tent, stiffly lowering herself onto her throne and feeling distinctly annoyed at their lack of contact.

"So...now what?" Clarke asked, hugging herself, as if she were envisioning Lexa doing so.

Internally she sighed, holding on to the smooth, wooden arms of her throne for something to do with her over eager, tingling hands. She leaned back in the hollowed out seat and took a few moments to try and clear her mind of visions of a very naked Clarke squirming beneath her not three feet from where the girl currently stood. Ever the pragmatic one, she finally managed to calm herself and focus on the next tasks at hand.

"Our truce will hold for now, and will be further solidified with the burning of our combined people's bodies, but once that task is accomplished, our future together is less certain."

"What do you mean?" said Clarke, frowning, lowering her arms to her sides. "Shouldn't a truce be enough to keep us from killing each other some more?"  
"Probably," she replied. "But not necessarily." She hesitated before confidently adding, "My people are not happy with the way I acted around you. They don't approve of my choice in companion."

The frown deepened on her smudged, unclean face, doubts settling within. "How do you know that? No one's said anything yet."

"They don't have to, Clarke, I can see it in their eyes. You are not one of us."

Clarke looked up at her, indignation rising. "Well, screw them," she said haughtily. "They shouldn't have any say in who you love." She blushed faintly. "I mean date."

Lexa smiled slightly and quietly said, "I believe you had that right the first time, Clarke."

Despite the fact that Clarke's features became more embarrassed, Lexa felt a surge of affection and held onto her armrests tighter, lest she get any untoward ideas in her head and decide to act on them at her own peril.

She sighed again, this time audibly. "And unfortunately they do have some say over my chosen. If they don't deem you worthy of me, or don't believe you have their best interests at heart, they might attempt to harm you."

Clarke clenched and unclenched her bandaged fists, mirroring Lexa's own internal disquiet. Lexa still didn't know how Clarke had hurt herself. She would have to ask later.

Sensing that Clarke wanted to say something but was afraid to give voice to it, Lexa prompted her.

"Clarke?"

Looking away, she muttered, "I'm guessing no one had a problem with...Costia."

Just the name caused a pang that she quickly repressed, but not soon enough. Clarke grimaced. Lexa swallowed slowly before responding. "She was a highly respected healer...and I believe you can be the same."

"I don't know, Lexa, I'm still learning," Clarke said hastily, pulse quickening. "I hardly know what I'm doing half the time." She ran a hand through her somewhat muddy hair, flicking her hand absentmindedly to dislodge some remnants. "I've never excelled at the healing stuff like my mom. Drawing's so much easier and way less stressful."

"You saved Anya's life, something above Nyko's own skill," she said, with a measured, yet friendly stare. "You can bring the dead back to life." She smirked. "They will think you are supernatural and will not dare incur your wrath."

Instead of finding her attempt at humour amusing, Clarke bit her lip again and Lexa made sure to keep her eyes plastered to the canvas behind her head. Now was not the time for distraction.

Clarke's eyes lit up as a sudden realization overtook her. Lexa waited impatiently for her to speak.

"In all of this excitement, we kind of forgot about something else...the reapers. My people can turn them back into men. It's the least we can do after...well, what happened."

Chaotic and distorted flashbacks to her last encounter with the creatures took flight, until she stifled them.

Though she didn't share Clarke's optimism, she nevertheless said, "How?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Clarke admitted reluctantly. "I'd have to get my hands on one and study him with my mom. If anyone will know what to do, it'll be her."

Lexa observed her silently for a time, not particularly eager to put Clarke in close contact with one of those raging monsters, but torn all the same, knowing if she could accomplish this previously believed impossible task, it would work highly in their favour, and her acceptance within the coalitions ranks would be all but assured.

"I will have some of my people round one of them up as soon as possible," she finally said, without a second thought. "We have a...tone generator in our possession, it should not be difficult."

"If that's the case, my people should be the ones to retrieve one."

"They reside mostly in the tunnels, Clarke, your people would be lost within minutes."

She hadn't said this in a condescending manner, just stating facts, but Clarke had bristled regardless. Lexa understood that Clarke wanted her people to be construed as having a purpose and not appearing weak or afraid. But in this particular instance, it was not the place.

" _I_ know the way around," pushed Clarke defiantly, moving closer. " _I_ can lead them."

"You've had a long journey already," Lexa said, growing irritated and anxious. "My people will go."

"It was _my_ idea," she said, now standing just below her dais. "I should be the one to see it through."

Lexa glared at her stubbornness, at someone not immediately bowing to her wishes.

"Besides, there's gotta be research in the mountain that we could take a look at. I got the impression that Tsing was being less than forthcoming with Dante about reversing the process."

Eventually Lexa sighed and relented, sinking slightly into her throne. "Fine, you may lead your people, Clarke...but you will take some of my own as well."

"You really think they're going to listen to me?" Clarke asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"They will if I tell them to," she said, not entirely convinced herself.

Clarke gently smiled, reaching over to place a hand on her knee. "It's going to be okay, Lexa, and if something happens that I can't handle, I know who to call."

Lexa nodded wearily, glimpsing her soft bed. Selfishly she gave into her weakness and desire to keep Clarke around for as long as possible. "It's growing late. You should rest before you go."

"I don't need to," Clarke said, shaking her head. "I'm good to go."

_Do as I say!_

"It could be dangerous, Clarke, I would feel better if you restored your strength first."

Clarke looked like she would object further but then she smirked and said, "Okay, Lexa, I'll _rest_...but only if you join me."

Lexa had seen that sly look before. It had been bestowed on her prior to several 'make out sessions' while Clarke was still on the Ark and incarcerated. As tempting as the proposition sounded, it was definitely not wise to agree.

She licked her lips. "Clarke, I don't think-"

"Don't worry," she interrupted smoothly, sensing the refusal before it happened, "I'll keep my hands to myself." The smirk grew as she placed one dirty bandaged hand to her chest and raised the other, "Scouts honour. I just want to lie _beside_ you, Lexa, nothing more," continued Clarke, a certain glint in her eye that belied her reassurance. "And if I try anything else, you can punish me for it when you're better."

A shiver ran through her and she banished the unsavoury thoughts that crept into her mind unbidden. Somehow she was nodding and following Clarke over to the bed. She watched as the temptress sat down and yanked off her very muddy boots, and then proceeded to take off her less dirty blue leather jacket, unceremoniously dropping it on the ground. Clarke had received the brunt of the mud spatter fallout. Without looking at Lexa, she stood up and started to peel off her grimy pants. At this Lexa could not keep silent, the urge to touch was becoming overpowering.

" _Clarke_."

Clarke innocently said, "Your furs are so nice and clean, it'd be a shame to get them dirty."

This was a very logical point and Lexa nodded, mouth parted, hooded eyes glued to the lower half of Clarke's increasingly unclothed body, her arousal pounding through her blood in an almost painful way. Clarke started to smirk again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lexa knew she had more or less asked for this, and deserved to suffer every torturous second.

When Clarke was in the middle of taking her shirt off, dusty fabric bunched around her head, squished cleavage only inches away that was making Lexa forget everything she ever knew, except the instinct to bury her face there, Indra suddenly pushed through the flaps and said, "Commander, the-"

Her General stared emotionlessly at the scene before her, though Lexa might have heard a few swear words from Clarke under her breath. It was rather hard to say, considering she could barely comprehend the English _or_ Trigedasleng language in that moment.

"Who is that?!" exclaimed Clarke, apparently stuck that way. Surprised, she had fallen back into the bed and squirmed around as she tried to free herself of her self imposed bindings.

Lexa wanted to yell at Indra to go away, but she also wanted to punish Clarke for teasing her so terribly. Torn between the two options, she simply stared back, eyes glazed over, and said nothing.

"The sky girl's mother wants to know that her daughter remains unharmed." They both flashed a glance at a struggling, half naked Clarke, before returning their gazes to one another.

"Oh God, Indra's here!" Clarke yelled, awkwardly flipping around so that her chest was no longer on display but causing her butt to hang in the air instead.

Lexa's eyes snapped to it and watched the elegant dance of the thinly clothed, expertly sculpted cheeks, and instinctively was about to pounce, pin her down and ravish her much like she had done in the shower.

"I believe what she's really saying is that she would like to see her daughter... _clothed_...outside of this tent...and with her own people."

"I'll be there right away!" said Clarke, finally succeeding in releasing herself from her troublesome top. "I just need to-"

At the last instant, Lexa stopped herself from tackling the girl with a different instinct. The pent up, excruciating restraint manifested itself in a not so gentle slap to Clarke's perfect ass. It sounded like a whip had been cracked, and Lexa felt a vague stinging sensation beneath her own extreme arousal. Clarke yelped, falling back onto her face gracelessly. She rubbed at her rapidly reddening butt, making Lexa feel a number of things, before whipping her head around, tousled hair flying sideways, scowling up at her. Looking like a wounded pauna, Lexa should have been very afraid, but fear was the last thing on her mind.

"What the _fuck_ , Lexa!" she seethed between gritted teeth. "That _really_ hurt!"

Without waiting for a response, Clarke hopped out of the bed, and began shoving various parts of her body back into her filthy clothes. Lexa blinked, regaining a modicum of common sense as she watched this fast paced progress, feeling distinctly displeased, but unable to voice her displeasure, paralysed as if the jumping spider had stung her tongue. Before she could even think to apologize to Clarke, she was storming out of the tent.

"What is this 'fuck' the sky people are so fond of?" her top General asked.

When Lexa didn't respond and continued to stand there in a dazed manner, Indra rolled her eyes and left too.

 _What just happened_? thought Lexa stupidly.

In the end, Lexa got her wish and Clarke didn't go to the mountain until the next morning. As far as Clarke's people were concerned, it was too late to be heading off on another adventure. At least, this is what Lexa gathered was the reasoning. Clarke was wilfully preventing her visitation on the Sky People's side of the killing field, and Lexa could only watch from afar as the girl paced, discouraging conversation and discreetly rubbing her throbbing butt from time to time. Every time she did, Lexa received another twinge of guilt and pain and it was frustrating to be kept at bay like this, unable to apologize. Sensing her annoyance, Lexa's people knew better than to bother her unless absolutely necessary.

Without anything else to keep herself occupied with, she ordered a basin of water brought to her, and focused on scrubbing off the flecks of dried mud and heavily smudged war paint, until her face was raw and pink. A bath was out of the question for multiple reasons, so instead she rubbed herself down with a wet cloth, the cold water raising 'goose bumps', careful to avoid disturbing the various poultices. Then, mostly unclothed, she undid her braids and ran her wet fingers through her long brown tresses to get out as much grime as possible. She always slept better when she felt clean, and considering the state of affairs with Clarke, she was going to need all the help she could get. Pure exhaustion helped aid in this quest.

Early in the morning she rose and dressed in a fresh pair of clothing and armour, wincing as the weight dug anew into her sensitive flesh. Lexa tried to reach Clarke, but she was either not awake yet or was still preventing her visitation. A quick survey outside told her it was the latter. A small group of Sky People were preparing supplies and getting ready to head out.

Lexa decided Clarke's indignation had gone on long enough, so she confidently strode through 'no man's land' with two of her own at her back, receiving wary glances from the others, and marched right up to her. Clarke didn't glance up from the task at hand, fixing the straps to one of their bags.

"Ryder and Trix will accompany you," she said, leaving no room for argument. "You will take horses to facilitate your journey. Regardless of how much you accomplish, I expect your return by nightfall, to participate in the burning of our people."

Getting no response she gripped her sword hilt tight and clenched her jaw. "Is that understood?"

Clarke smiled sweetly. "Loud and clear, _commander_."

Lexa narrowed her eyes at her tone, knowing full well it irked her when Anya did the same, and then nodded once, turning on her heel and heading back the way she came.

A short while later, she watched as all the Sky People struggled to get atop their mounts, all except Clarke herself. She hopped on like she was born to it, eliciting exclamations of surprise from some and curses from the others. It was clear to Lexa that this apparent innate skill was actually a result of their shared connection, a connection that had only fortified since coming into physical contact. Because Lexa knew how to ride, so too did Clarke. It was the same reason she could speak Trigedasleng without effort, the same reason why Lexa understood whatever foreign English words and phrases Clarke or her people used.

They made brief, but intense eye contact as the party sauntered away, and Lexa was guilt ridden once more as Clarke allowed a particularly strong flow of sensation between them, just so that Lexa could feel how much Clarke's bruised bottom was hurting as it rubbed against the saddle. Unconsciously, she flinched. Satisfied that Lexa understood, Clarke smiled without humour and set her sights straight ahead.

Lexa sighed. It was going to be another long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Clarke's Tushie
> 
> Oh dear...I seem to be portraying Lexa as a violent lover...hmm...
> 
> So after Clarke said, "Scouts honour." This line originally followed. 'Scouts were no more honourable than any of her other people, but Lexa decided not to point that out.'
> 
> I really liked this line but unfortunately had to cut it based on the fact I explicitly said Lexa understands Clarke's meanings...Imma say that perhaps she didn't get stuff early on in their relationship cuz they didn't know how to access information the same way...otherwise, if that doesn't make sense, I guess I've just decided to let them have access now that they're on Earth together, cuz I feel like it. :p
> 
> And I'm still laughing at the fact that ADC probably drives as well as Lexa would. xD


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially my longest fic eva! Imma have to kill everyone off real quick now...but I'll let you finish after I give a ninety minute speech...wait, what?
> 
> But seriously, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this thing for as long as you have. Y'all are great. :)

The air was crisp and somewhat biting, and her calf still troubled her, but she nonetheless felt like going for a walk shortly after Clarke left. The girl could be so unreasonable at times, it drove Lexa mad. Always being ruled by emotion was not conducive of much, other than bad decisions. Lexa hoped that in time, Clarke would learn to see things more clearly, more her own way.

Her guard remained many paces back and off to the side, giving her space, but ready to intervene in a moments notice lest someone or something attack. Once this constant shadow would have vexed her greatly, never having a single moment to herself, except in sleep. Now she barely paid them any mind, and simply tried to enjoy the serene Autumn morning, before some new dilemma required her attention.

She didn't get very far before she came across someone hunched over, digging in the rain softened dirt with their bare hands. Even from the back, the profile seemed familiar and she slowed her step and moved to a better vantage point. She silently watched as Clarke's father lifted up a small tree, really more of a shrub than anything, and placed it in the hole. Instinctively she knew it was the Eden tree and that it held great meaning for some of Clarke's people. Lexa wanted to tell him that now was really not the season to be planting anything, that winter would be upon them soon, that it might die if it didn't have enough time to grow sturdy roots before the harsh chill came, but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt his peaceful progress. And she assumed he must have already known the risk. He had a great intellect.

When he was done patting the dirt down and securing the tree, he stood up, wiping his hands off on his pants, and began muttering something to himself. Though she had remarkable hearing, it was hard to make out his words. What she could discern didn't make much sense. It might have been a prayer, might not have been. Whatever it was, Clarke was not familiar with it.

Rather than continue on and pretend like she hadn't been watching and listening, she remained standing there until he turned around a bit and noticed her presence.

After his surprise wore off, he smiled at her and said, "You really need to teach me that trick." She raised an eyebrow. "How to be a ninja." Since she didn't immediately respond he continued, "Oh, right, that means-"

"I know what it means, Jake of the Sky People."

He smiled again. "Jake's fine." He glanced down at the Eden tree. As if he had read her mind, "This tree was genetically modified to survive extreme conditions. It'll be fine." He looked back over at her. "I was just saying goodbye to all those that sacrificed themselves so that we could be here."

Lexa dipped her eyes in understanding.

Jake started walking towards her. She shook her head almost imperceptibly towards her guard as they raised their bow.

"In all that craziness...I never got to properly thank you for saving my life." He held out his dirty hand and she clasped it and shook the way the sky people did. "Mochof, heda."

"Lexa's fine," she replied smoothly, earning a smirk from the man. "And you're welcome."

He turned away, taking a deep lungful of the cold air. "Sure is bracing out...and beautiful. It'll be a shame when winter comes and sweeps away all this colour." Jake glanced sideways at her. "Wish I could bottle it up, ya know?"

She nodded. Lexa relied on the vibrant paintings in her home in Polis to get her through the dreary months ahead. Briefly she wondered if perhaps Clarke might be able to add to her collection.

They stood there in silence, but it wasn't awkward. More peaceful than anything. She watched as a few birds lifted out of the fire red canopy, twirling around each other, completely free and unburdened. The longer he stood there beside her, the more she came to understand he wanted to say something else. Was this going to be an 'if you hurt my daughter, I will hurt you back' kind of speech? Blood must have blood. And sure enough...

"You know, Clarke was my father's name. He really dotted on my unborn child, talked to her regularly through my wife's stomach. Abby thought it was ridiculous, illogical behaviour."

Lexa agreed.

"But when he died before she was born, I took up the tradition, and Abby never rolled her eyes again." He grinned, "I even caught her once in the act. Teased her mercilessly about it."

Lexa smirked.

"We were originally going to call her Carmilla, Carm for short."

Lexa narrowed her eyes and he laughed. "Yeah, kind of glad we decided against it. Doesn't really suit her, does it?"

She shook her head.

"Anyway, my point is that things don't always turn out the way we expect them to. In fact, they rarely do." He placed a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened against it at first, but quickly relaxed into the touch, warning off her guard with just her eyes. "So even though you are one of the last people I ever envisioned seeing Clarke with...and despite the less savoury aspects... _necessities_ of your command, you sound like a good person...and I believe you'll treat her right..."

She felt a sudden surge of guilt over her inadvertent and epic ass slap, and stiffened under his hand again. Paranoid, she wondered if he knew the particulars of what had happened and was plotting his revenge even now.

"...and always put her first..."

Lexa swallowed hard. She loved Clarke more than she ever thought possible, but to put her above all of her people...Lexa couldn't do it...it wasn't in her nature.

"Or else," he finished in a manner that was far from threatening. They both knew he couldn't really raise a hand against her without starting another war.

Still, the need to be honest was overwhelming. "If I could, I would," she said thickly. "I would choose my heart over my head for her always...but I can't guarantee that in future."

His hand fell away, accompanied with a deep sigh. "I know." This time the silence between them _was_ uncomfortable. "But I had to at least _try_ to be menacing, right?" he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "Father's duty and all that?"

Lexa inclined her head, smiling slightly. "You are a good father, Jake. Clarke is lucky to have you."

* * *

Being in a bad mood, her companions (Raven, Octavia and Bellamy) didn't try to talk to her and instead marvelled at the world around. Ryder and Trix rode at the back of the pack, so silent that she kept forgetting they were there. Only her mother didn't have enough common sense not to poke the bear.

Clumsily, she steered her horse up beside Clarke's and said, "Are you ever going to tell me what happened in the commander's tent?"

Clarke ignored her even as her ass throbbed painfully again.

Her mother sighed. "I know we haven't talked much since-"

"You locked me up?" Clarke finished for her, clenching her fist tight around the rein, praying for patience. She had a short fuse at the best of times and the continuous discomfort below was not going to help it burn any slower. "Or since you thought I was crazy?"

"Clarke, you have to know, I didn't want you to be...I hoped there was another explanation..."

"But you didn't believe me," she said, bitterly, "even with all your tests."

"If you had been in my position," defended Abby, "would you really have thought any differently?"

" _Dad_ believed me," she said stubbornly, still refusing to look at her mother directly.

Her mom bristled. "We both know your father has always been the more idealistic of the two of us."

"Yeah, must be so tough to put up with _that_ everyday," she replied sarcastically. "Must be why you betrayed him."

That hit the intended mark and her mom audibly gasped and when she spoke next, her voice was faintly tremulous. "Clarke...I never meant for any of that to happen..."

"Didn't you?" she shot back scathingly, glaring at her head on. "What _else_ did you expect, mom?!" And then because she was just about done with their pointless conversation, "If it wasn't for Lexa, you'd be widowed and I'd be orphaned." It took her mom a second to realize she meant Clarke would've disowned her. When she understood, the tears pricked at her eyes and her lip trembled. Clarke felt vaguely bad for her outburst, but not nearly enough to squeeze out an apology. Still, the bite was significantly less as she said, "So I'd appreciate it if you'd save whatever speech you have planned about how she isn't good for me."

Her ass throbbed viciously right then.

Meekly, "I wasn't going to-

"Maybe not, but you _were_ thinking it," she said, becoming aware of the sudden quiet that had descended on their little motley crew.

Not wanting to be around any of them right then, she rode on ahead and that's when she caught the tail end of another conversation, one miles away from there...

"... _good_ _father, Jake. Clarke is lucky to have you._ "

She only debated for a second whether or not to go there, and then she was standing in the snug space between her father and Lexa, an instant sensation of tranquillity, of warmth - and a twinge of sadness - flowing through. It didn't dawn on her until later that she had drawn a very similar scene in her cell, the only real difference being that she herself wasn't technically present. She would smile about this often, and fondly, as the days went by.

"Good morning, Clarke," Lexa said without moving a muscle or attempting to give her more room. She could have moved over and _into_ her dad, but she didn't feel like it and instead pressed into Lexa's side tightly.

Her dad glanced around the area as if he actually expected to be able to locate her visually. "Where is she?"

"Your daughter is between us, Jake," replied Lexa, hands behind her back.

He turned and smiled. "Hey, kiddo." It didn't take him long to clue into Lexa's less than cordial reception so he said, "Well, I've got some things to take care of back at the ship." He waved through her face, a rather strange visual sensation. "See ya later, Clarke." He half smirked. "Have mercy on your girl."

After a brief silence she turned towards Lexa, wondering just how mad she was for acting so stupidly. "Lexa, I'm-"

"I know."

"You just hit me really hard and..."

"I know."

"...it felt like you broke my ass..."

"I know."

"...but I was an idiot for teasing you in the first place so..."

" _Clarke_." Lexa finally turned to look at her.

"...we're agreed that we're both sorry?"

Lexa glanced down in answer. It seemed like forever ago that she had seen Lexa clean faced like this. Her beauty and her youth was always magnified without the war paint. She looked so normal, so _fragile_ without it.

Clarke placed a hand behind her neck and pulled her face closer but didn't land. Lexa blinked up from her lips in confusion. Clarke looked her straight in the eye and as sternly as she could muster considering their proximity said, "If you _ever_ do that again, I will _literally_ kick your ass."

Lexa raised an eyebrow and then smirked a little, as if she thought the threat held little water. It probably did, but it still annoyed Clarke that she wasn't being taken seriously at all. "I will be sure to keep my hands to myself, Clarke." Her eyes glinted mischievously. "Scouts honour."

Clarke rolled her eyes, kissed her sharply for a second and then abruptly left before Lexa could touch her.

 _Clarke_!

* * *

Lexa hadn't expressly asked Clarke to make a detour to the relocated encampment a couple of miles away from what remained of Tondc. In fact, Clarke was pretty sure Lexa would have expressly told her _not_ to come here if they had actually talked before leaving.

She wasn't entirely sure why she insisted on it either. There wasn't much she could do for the wounded that hadn't already been done by the capable healers of the various clans. When it came down to it, she supposed there really was only one reason.

She wanted to finally meet the thorn in her side. Better to do it while she was less deadly than usual.

It took some doing to get Lexa's people to tell her which tent housed Anya. If not for Trix and Ryder's presence, the people surely would have attacked them outright, rather than just glare at them in thinly veiled hostility as she made her request on behalf of the commander. Even so, they were required to hand over their weapons before entering the camp, something Clarke did not feel entirely pleased about.

There weren't that many tents set up for the wounded, so it didn't come as much of a surprise that both Gustus and Anya resided in the same one, two hulking guards posted just outside. She had no allusions about her position here. If she made any kind of move construed as a danger, they would not hesitate to strike her down, commander's blessing or no.

Clarke told the others to remain outside, but Ryder refused to leave her side. Lexa had probably told him not to, so she didn't argue as they both pushed through the flaps and set her own eyes on Lexa's best friend. Anya was bruised and beaten from the Azgeda battle, and wore only a light, clean tunic, no armour in sight. A dagger (the same one Anya had tossed while deliberating whether or not to spill the beans to the clan leaders) still resided on the table beside her and Clarke was vaguely disquieted about that, wondering if the woman might stab her, thinking she was doing Lexa a favour.

After all, 'Such softness was not befitting of the commander.'

Anya appeared to be asleep so she turned towards Gustus, immediately anxious at the pale, blood drained colour of his skin, and instinctively went over to his side. He eyed her in weary, confused interest and put up no resistance as she laid the back of her hand on his forehead. The skin was cold and clammy and not exactly optimal. Then again, the fact that he was still alive after being shot three times was rather impressive, and if he hadn't gone yet, he probably wouldn't later on.

"You'll be fine," she told him in Trigedasleng, trying to reassure herself, just as much as him. "You're strong. Your fight is far from over."

He just looked at her with increasing interest. "The commander said the same thing," he replied with a slight wry smile, as if he didn't believe her either. Languidly, he raised an arm that she hastened to grasp. "Hei, Klark kom Skaikru."

"Hei, Gostos."

"I am glad to see my faith was not misplaced." He gripped her forearm a little tighter, pulling her closer. "Her life is in your hands now, Clarke," he whispered. "Do not make it forfeit."

Meaning, no one approved of her and she would have to make them accept her as the commander's equal, or they would _both_ be in trouble.

"I don't plan on it," she said solemnly. Then because she felt the need to reassure further, "I'm actually on my way to the mountain now, to round up some reapers and turn them back into men."

The normally stoic, unreadable man gaped at her slightly.

A sarcastic voice broke their intense eye contact. "You are even more of a fool than I expected."

_Expected?_

Clarke laid Gustus' arm back down on the bed, patted his hand and then turned to face Anya, who had propped herself up against a fur lined pillow.

"Oh, so you _did_ believe I was real after all?"

Anya thought about her wording for a moment and then glared at Clarke, realizing her mistake. Clarke knew she shouldn't be antagonizing the recuperating woman, but she just couldn't help it. Her insolent, arrogant behaviour always rubbed Clarke the wrong way.

Anya's blood shot eyes looked her up and down quickly. "I don't know what she sees in you. You are no warrior." Smirking, "The children could easily defeat you. _I_ could easily defeat you, even as I am now."

Clarke huffed and then fell for the bait like an idiot. "Would you like to put your money where your mouth is?"

Clearly Anya didn't have any trouble getting her meaning because she was removing the furs and swinging her legs over the side.

_Oh shit!_

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't back down or forever risk looking weak to the woman. But she couldn't actually _fight_ Anya because a) she probably _would_ get her ass handed to her resulting in the first outcome, and b) Lexa would _definitely_ kill her for impeding her best friends recovery. Ryder didn't look like he planned on interfering, in fact, she thought he was probably giddy at the prospect of the bad mannered sky girl getting her come uppence. Then again, she couldn't fucking read him at all.

"Now who is the fool?" muttered Gustus.

Anya spared him a withering glare before setting her calculating sights back on Clarke, swaying slightly now that she was on her bare feet. Thankfully she didn't opt to snatch up the dagger and bury it in her chest.

Before Anya could take a swing at her, inspiration struck. "I thought it was customary to be indebted to those that saved their lives?"

That stilled the woman, spine gone rigid. "I owe you nothing, sky girl."

"Oh really?" she pressed on, resisting the very strong urge to back away. Instead, she took a step _closer,_ getting a bit into Anya's personal space _._ She took a deep breath before saying, "'Cause I'm pretty sure you'd be a pile of ashes right about now if it wasn't for me." Clarke forced herself to smirk as she looked down. "Those are some soft lips you got there, _lukot_."

Anya clenched a bandaged fist, absolutely seething. "I won't let you control the commander _ever_ again!"

The injured woman lunged at her and Clarke instinctively pivoted out of the way. Movements slowed by pain, Anya sloppily redirected back at her, and so began a cat and mouse game inside the confines of the medical tent, Clarke occasionally hopping on and over Anya's bed to get away. Under different circumstances it might have been humorous. Clarke was just hoping to stay out of her way long enough to tire her out and get her to back off, so that _maybe_ they could have a civil conversation. The other inhabitants were watching with mild interest, anything to break up the tedium and pain of their days.

"Only cowards prance around like a deer!" puffed Anya, clearly losing steam and irritated by her lack of stamina.

"Only idiots attack someone after being shot!"

Anya snarled and lunged once more. Unfortunately, this time, Clarke misjudged her location in the relatively tight space and bashed her ass into one of the bedside tables. It was like getting slapped all over again. The excruciating agony made her come to a halt and left her an easy target for the heavily panting warrior to lay her hands on her and rip her to shreds.

_Fuck!_

Except that never came to pass because Ryder had finally stepped in at the last second and calmly collected Anya against his broad chest, just like Clarke's father had done on more than one occasion. The difference being Anya looked like a rag doll in his massive biceps.

"Unhand me!" snapped Anya, feebly struggling against the solid bearded man.

"No," he said simply. He looked towards Clarke with barely discernible puzzlement. "The commander does not want this one harmed."

As if being summoned, Lexa appeared and glared between the two women. Absentmindedly Clarke wondered if her ass bang had brought her here in such a bad mood, or if the rapidly deteriorating situation was enough on its own.

"What is the meaning of this, Clarke?"

 _Umm_...

While Clarke frantically tried to collect her wits and come up with a reasonable excuse for antagonizing Anya, Raven popped her head in. "Hey Clarke, you about ready to-" The dark haired girl stopped in her tracks, glancing around at everyone, eyes settling on the struggling warrior in an oddly appraising manner. "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah, everything's good. And yeah, I'm ready to go." She zoomed through an irate Lexa, ' _Clarke_!', past Anya and Ryder, muttered, "You just saved my life... _again_ ," to Raven and continued out into freedom.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more levity for y'all.
> 
> Clarke's kind of a dumb dumb, ain't she?
> 
> Lukot means friend.
> 
> #Raya? Yay or nay?


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the yay's have it by a landslide...
> 
> Not sure how I feel about this chap...but here ya go anyway.

While Bellamy and Octavia teased each other mercilessly over the respective grounders they had taken a shining to, Raven trotted up beside her, presumably to get away from The Blake siblings increasingly uncivil and childish behaviour. Clarke wouldn't be surprised if one of them (meaning Octavia) shoved the other off their horse soon. Her mother had been quiet ever since Clarke had snapped at her, falling to the back with Ryder and Trix. She sighed, knowing she would need to make amends, and not particularly looking forward to it.

Save for the bickering, they rode in silence for a time before Raven hesitantly said, "So, that warrior chick from before...what's the story with that? Who is she?"

Clarke glanced sideways at the girl who was eyeing her warily, clearly expecting a similar reaction to that with her mother.

"A friend of Le-the commander's," she said, not so smoothly. She hoped Raven would just let her slip be and not push further. Apparently the women in her life were incapable of restraint.

"I know her name's Lexa, Clarke," Raven said, with a half smirk. "Everyone does. You've screamed it enough times over the past two days. Anyway," she continued quickly when Clarke glared at her, "why does her friend hate your guts?"

She sighed again, not really in the mood to talk about this, but knowing Raven won't let it slide if she thinks it's important. "You mean besides the fact that I can control her leader?"

Raven's eyes bugged out for a second. "No, shit? You can do that?"

"Yeah, but only if she lets me. I have to get consent first."

"Even so, that's pretty damn cool," Raven said, staring at her like she's a revelation. She blinked and then grinned slyly. "Had any fun with that yet?"

"Well, I... _we_ , dove from a two hundred foot high tree with nothing but a rope around our ankles."

She left out the part about being terrified and then being attacked by Reapers. The very same things they were headed towards. Her confidence in taming them again wavered and her palms began to grow sweaty against the reins. None of the other Arkers really understood the magnitude of what they were getting themselves into. Mostly because Clarke had been somewhat vague, not wanting to scare everyone off.

Raven whistled. "Damn, Griffin. Lexa's got some balls." She looked ahead. "You know, as annoying as it might be to have someone else in my head all the time, I gotta say, I'm kind of jealous." She shifted in her saddle. "That kind of intense connection...it's not every day you come across it."

"What about Finn?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

He had been more or less clinging on to Raven since they dragged her into the drop ship. Limited in horses, they couldn't take everyone who volunteered, Wells and Finn included. Octavia had earned the right to come by preventing a worse massacre, and Bellamy refused to let her go alone. Finn had acted the exact same way where Raven was concerned, like he was the only one who could protect her if trouble brewed. Sweet, but irrational, and somewhat insulting behaviour on both boys sides. It had been quite the chore to get him to stay put for this excursion and give Raven the space she so clearly needed.

"I thought you two were inseparable?"

Raven took so long to respond that Clarke almost missed the uncertain, yet gruff words.

"We were...but I don't know...ever since what happened up there...something's missing. I don't really know how to explain it...it's like I left a piece of myself behind...and now we don't fit together the same way we used to." She hunched her shoulders. "And it sucks 'cause for the first time in my life I don't know how to fix something..." she frowned, as if recognizing the inaccuracy of this statement, and becoming overcome with guilt all over again. Raven literally shrugged it off. "I don't know how to fix us."

Clarke reached over and placed a hand to Raven's knee, squeezing. "You've been through a lot, Raven. You just need more time to come to terms with what's happened." She smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you guys will be back to normal soon enough."

"Yeah, maybe," she replied, not sounding very convinced. "Anyway, thanks for letting me tag along. I really needed the space."

"I chose you, Raven, because you're brilliant," Clarke said, trying to pump her up a bit while evading the correct analysis. "And we're going to need all the smarts we can get to figure this thing out."

"Biology's not really my forte, Clarke...but nice try."

There was a thudding and neighing sound as Bellamy fell off his horse. "Oww! What the hell, O?!"

"Serves you right, you asshole!"

Clarke groaned internally, rubbing at her forehead. Today was going to be another long day.

* * *

They tied the horses up outside of the tunnel entrance, much to everyone's relief. Except for the grounders, they were not accustomed to saddles, and therefore acquired a stinging rash on their inner thighs. Just another thing to add to her collection of lower body discomforts.

Progress through the dark and eerie mine shafts was slow at first, until she got her bearings, and even then she wasn't entirely sure they were headed in the right direction. Every stretch of tunnel more less looked the same, with only slight discrepancies to distinguish.

The first reaper they came across caused a bit of a hub bub. It had more or less come out of nowhere and before Clarke could activate the tone generator, the Blake's had more or less been scared shitless. Even when he was subdued and hunched over on the ground, neither one wanted to go near it to secure with ties. She was about to step up when Raven rolled her eyes, yanked the tie out of Octavia's hands and got it done. Raven shared a smug look with Clarke when she turned around and Clarke returned it.

The tone generator continued to work like a charm from there on out, and before she knew it, they had left behind them a string of tied up monster men, restrained so that they couldn't go eat anyone prematurely. If they were successful in creating an antidote, they would come back and cure them on their way out. As it was, she planned on only collecting one reaper for further study, and they would do that much closer to their destination.

Clarke only hit a dead end once, for which she was proud, and then they were gingerly stepping around the bodies of twenty or so reapers near the reaper door, half expecting their hacked corpses to reanimate at any moment and attack them in a frenzy of teeth and blood.

Nothing like that came to pass and they easily gained entrance into the bunker through the door with the broken locking mechanism.

"What the hell is this place?" asked Octavia loudly as they headed through the unsettling decontamination room.

"Quiet, O," said Bellamy, shock stick at the ready. They had opted not to bring guns as they had been afraid of setting off the grounders accompanying them. "There's no telling if one or more of those things got in here."

Clarke was wondering the same thing. There was a number of bloody footprints along the concrete floors here, but those could have easily only come from Lexa's warriors, and not a horde of reapers looking for their next fix.

"Yeah 'cause Mr. Growly Pants is really letting us keep a low profile," Octavia returned sarcastically, gesturing to the tied reaper Ryder was keeping a secure hold on.

"Don't you two start up again," she warned before Bellamy could retaliate. "Focus."

She wasn't going to take any chances, so she moved slowly, sweeping the flashlight in every corner before making their way across and into the stark and less doomed filled corridors of the ground level of the mountain. Nothing was waiting to dismember them here either, so she turned off her flashlight and addressed her crew.

"So we've got about five hours to try and figure out a cure for the reapers before we have to return for the burning ritual."

Dubious expressions turned startled as the reaper snarled in appreciation of this difficult task.

"Trix, Raven," her gaze hesitated before landing on her mom, "mom, I need you to go to the second level and check out the lab." She held out the keycard and Raven snatched it up. "With any luck, there will be samples and detailed data telling us what we're dealing with." She looked to the rest of them. "Everyone else is with me. We're going to explore down here a bit more." Glancing at Raven, and then down to her walkie talkie, "I expect progress reports every half an hour. Stay safe."

Nods abounded and then they went off in their respective directions.

* * *

This portion of the ground floor consisted mostly of crudely hewn rock wall and ceilings, more like the tunnels that led them here than a suitable living environment.

"What are we looking for?" asked Bellamy, coming up on her left.

"There were bloody footprints leading in this direction."

"So? There's bloody footprints everywhere."

"Not like these. These ones are..." she caught his eye. "fresh."

He gulped, but nodded, posture becoming rigid again with his guard training.

Rustling was heard and she tensed as well as they came up to one of the partially opened heavy iron doors. Her thumb hovered over the tone generator as Bellamy swept passed her and into the room. Surprisingly, there was no girlish scream of fright this time.

"Hey Clarke, you're gonna want to see this."

She slipped into the room, Octavia close behind, to find one of the reapers huddled in the corner of the dank, dirty quarters, repeatedly jabbing itself in the neck with a discarded and empty injector. It seemed to be completely oblivious to their presence.

"Looks like its lost its mind," said Octavia. She thought about that for a second. "Well, even more so now."

Right beside her was a semi reclined chair that had various loose straps hanging down. It was very similar to the one on the Ark, the one she herself had almost been relegated to. An...operatory chair.

Coupled with the various old blood stains on the cavern walls and floor, it was obviously a place the mountain men had used to create the reapers.

It was only when she pushed the button that it finally took notice of them. Immediately it collapsed, thrashing around, yet still somehow managed to hold onto the injector. She gestured to the Blake's to grab hold and secure it to the chair. This they did haltingly with the aid of the shock sticks. She released the button but it continued to thrash and struggle against its restraints.

The Blake's looked to her, as if to say, 'Now what?'

_Now what indeed?_

Clarke slipped the walkie talkie from her belt and said, "How's it going, Raven?"

"We're approaching the lab right now," came the static response. "It was harder to find than I would've thought."

There was more growling outside and Clarke poked her head out, and saw Ryder was struggling somewhat with his burden. Before she could help him out by pressing the button again, he had thumped the bedraggled, bloodied man on the top of the head, rendering him unconscious.

_Well, that's one way to get the job done._

"Damn," muttered Raven.

"What?" she breathed out sharply, taken aback by her tone.

Raven sighed deeply. "This place is trashed, Clarke." Boots crunched over glass. "There's papers scattered everywhere, broken vials on the ground...and the computers toast too. Looks like someone stabbed it with a freaking sword."

Clarke tried not to let her disappointment seep through when she said, "Is there anything of value left? Any samples?"

"We'll keep looking, but I wouldn't hold my breath. These papers are all blood transfusion records, nothing to do with monster making."

Without a pure sample of the drug it would be nearly impossible to render an antidote. If they didn't get _something_ from this expedition, then she would have already failed in her quest to solidify an alliance with the other clans and gain their respect as Lexa's equal.

Determined not to lose all hope, she said, "What about the back up hard drive? Is that intact?"

"No, that's been smashed too."

"The President's office," she said, grasping at straws. "On the seventh level. If Tsing was sharing her research with anyone else, it was him."

"On it."

The group waited with baited breath for about five minutes before the walkie talkie squawked into life again.

"Sorry, Clarke...this place has been ransacked too." She sucked in a breath. "Hold on a second... the computer seems to be in better shape than the other one...and I just so happen to have my tools with me. I'm sure I can make something happen."

"Thanks Raven," she replied, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. "You're the best."

"I know."

Clarke rolled her eyes but smirked regardless, happy that her 'friend' hadn't lost all faith in her abilities and her worth, even if it was only a front to mask her insecurities.

In the meantime she excused herself from the others and went back into the first corridor, willing herself to Lexa.

Lexa was sitting in her throne, reading a book with an illegible, faded title, painting quite the intriguing picture. Clarke would have to literally paint it one day.

Having pissed her off once more, the commander completely ignored her presence. Or at the very least, waited until Clarke got her point across before deciding whether or not it was worth responding to.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me for visiting Anya...for antagonizing her...and I'm sorry. I just thought it would be good for us to meet. The good news is we know she's healing remarkably well," she added, trying to lighten the mood.

Lexa turned the page but said nothing.

"Anyway, we're in the mountain now, but we've hit a bit of a snag." That was an understatement. "Looks like some of your warriors got a little smash happy in the lab, destroyed everything."

Finally this garnered a response, in the form of hands clenching tightly around the leather bound volume. Lexa closed the book and lowered it into her lap. Slowly she raised her eyes to Clarke's.

"That is most unfortunate." Lexa couldn't keep the fluttering of hope from leaking through. "Will you be returning early?"

Clarke held herself even more confidently as she said, "If anything, we might have to push our stay longer. Maybe even stay overnight."

" _Clarke,_ "warned Lexa, narrowing her eyes _._

"I know we were supposed to be back for the burnings, but we might as well try to get something here while we can, rather than having to make the journey again tomorrow."

Lexa contemplated this for a time, tapping her finger gently on the book, and then shook her head. "No, Clarke. I need you here. Your absence would be noted." She gave Clarke a pointed look which needed no verbal explanation.

_Perhaps if you hadn't wasted time bothering Anya, this would not be an issue._

Clarke sighed. "Okay fine. We'll be back by nightfall."

* * *

Pressed for time, Clarke was liberally using the tone generator, not bothering to turn it off at all as they hurried through the tunnels. So far this tactic had worked marvellously. No reapers had attacked them at all, and the tied ones from before simply squirmed on the ground.

But then, everything went to shit.

The device crapped out at the worst possible moment, leaving Clarke vulnerable. Before anyone could intervene, the reaper had knocked her over, biting her outstretched forearm, and though she punched it in the head frantically, it wouldn't let go, rabid like a dog.

"Clarke!" her mother and others yelled.

There was a flurry of movement, of zaps of electricity, and kicks, attempting to subdue it. Finally its jaw unclenched as Trix stabbed it in the back, and Ryder grabbed the monster by the scruff of the neck and smashed its skull into the rock wall. It continued to mindlessly snap, so he continued to bash its skull until the wall was splattered with blood and brains and the grotesque figure fell limp and lifeless.

"Let me see," her mother said, helping her to sit upright.

She gently pried Clarke's bloodied hand from her arm. The teeth marks were deep and the torn flesh and muscle showed they had scrapped against the bone. The sight made her queasy and she glanced away as Lexa appeared by her side, staring at her wound in worry and disgust.

"It's not that bad," her mom lied, just as she had done to ease Lexa's mind after the queen slashed her calf.

As her mom hastily rummaged through her bag for medical supplies, Lexa looked to her warriors in barely restrained rage, the intense feeling reviving her own senses momentarily. Unlike Clarke would've felt inclined to do, Lexa didn't say anything, but judging from their shared look, they knew they were in for it.

She slumped forward while her mother tended to her, sanitizing the jagged wound as best she could, the others standing guard around them in a semi-circle. Thankfully the reaper hadn't actually bit a chunk of flesh off, only ripped it loose. Even so, there was sure to be a scar when all was said and done, no matter how nicely her mother stitched it together.

Clarke grabbed a shaking Lexa's hand and brought her back down beside her.

"You're going to be okay, Clarke," she said, pressing kisses to their clasped hands.

She looked into Lexa's troubled gaze and then further up to where her own scar gleamed in the glow of the flashlights.

She keenly remembered how she had been its author, how she had almost gotten Lexa killed.

And then the pain finally registered fully as the adrenaline ebbed, and she blacked out from shock.

* * *

When she came to, she found herself riding with, well, Ryder. He held her securely across the waist in the same way Lexa had done upon their ill fated birthday gallop. Her mind felt slow and thick, like someone was squeezing it through a tube.

_That'd be the drugs talking, Clarke_ , she thought.

"How much longer?" she said hoarsely, voice barely registering above the clatter of hooves.

"Soon," he said, feeling him tighten against her, knowing Lexa would not be very forgiving.

It wasn't his fault though. It was the shitty construction quality of the Mountain Men's stuff.

"Don't worry, I'll-" she started to say, words cut off as they came to a stop in front of the very person she had been thinking of. It was dark out so it was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure they were still about half a mile away from the drop ship. Clarke's stomach dropped.

Indra stood beside the commander torch in hand. Lexa's war ready face appeared indifferent, but inwardly she was seething, murderous. Lexa impatiently waited for the rest of her people to return and then ordered the two warriors to stand before her. Clarke was about to follow too, but Lexa gave her a warning glare and Clarke felt compelled to stay put, supported by her mother.

"It wasn't their faults," she pleaded. "It was an accident."

Lexa ignored her completely, nettling Clarke, so she continued, "Killing them for my sake is weakness, Lexa. You can't do it." She stepped forward, shrugging out of her mother's grasp. "I won't allow it."

She expected Indra to tell her off for speaking to the commander in such an insolent way, but it was Lexa.

"These matters don't concern you, Clarke," she snarled as she withdrew her sword from its sheath. Trix and Ryder stood side by side, calmly awaiting their fates.

Clarke stepped closer and this time Indra drew her blade as well. "Actually they do. I'm the injured party here. I should be the one to decide their punishment."

Finally Lexa's eyes snapped to hers. They faced off for a time, the rage lessening slightly. Lexa twitched her head, re-sheathing her weapon. She gripped the pommel tight.

"Thank you," she said, wondering what the hell to do now.

"Well, then, Clarke, what would you have me do with these branwada's?"

Queasy and dim witted, she nevertheless said, "Administer ten lashes each." She cocked her head towards Bellamy who hesitantly stepped to her side. The shock stick was in hand. "Trust me, our people's methods of torture can be just as painful as yours."

Lexa deliberated for another moment, the rage lessening still further. She inclined her head. "Very well, Clarke. I will not kill them." Her eyes flashed dangerously and a hint of amusement showed. "But _you_ will administer their punishment yourself."

Various outcries from her people only served to make her skull and arm throb harder.

"Fine, _commander_ ," she said through gritted teeth, snatching the baton out of Bellamy's hand. "My pleasure."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have watched Fear the Walking Dead before writing this.
> 
> Well at least the reaper didn't bite her sore ass.


	27. Chapter 27

People with torches lined the outer sides of the pyres. They were spread out in L shapes, with some of the sky people occupying one and the grounders occupying the other. All of the clan leaders still alive were present. Where the two groups met stood Lexa and Clarke, each with their own torch in hand. She could feel how close Clarke was to succumbing to the drugs in her system, how weak and tired she was at that moment. They couldn't postpone the burnings any longer. To do so would be to enrage her people. Their loved ones could only be set free with the cleansing power of the flame. So Lexa kept her speech 'short and sweet', or as short and sweet as a funeral speech under strained circumstances _could_ be. She spoke in the common tongue so that everyone would understand her.

"Much was lost here," she cocked her eye sideways at Clarke for the briefest of instances, "and much was gained. Many gave their lives so that the Queen's deception and tyranny could come to an end. We will honour their memories forever. The Mountain Men will no longer plague us. Our people are free for the first time in a long time. We need to take this opportunity to continue to stand united, to forge a new destiny. The Sky People erred, but they have made their sacrifice in blood. Together, our people's spirits will be released into the world once more." She held the torch higher. "With this flame, the pain of the past will be behind us. With this flame, we let go. Yu gonplei ste odon," she finished, placing the torch to the first pyre of bodies.

The dried wood quickly ignited and set the still night ablaze. After a few seconds, she tilted her head towards Clarke, who muttered the final words before lighting her bundle of timber. And so on and so on down the lines they went, until all of the pyre's were lit and the dead were one step closer to rebirth.

* * *

Since Clarke left before the burnings were completed, Lexa did not see her until the next morning. It was a dreary, overcast and chilly day, but little wind blew and no rain fell, and the ashes and remains of their people still covered the killing field far and wide. Guards just behind, she strode through this mess as gingerly as she could, doing her best to avoid bringing the echoes of dead along with her.

As usual, the sky people were wary about her approach and all eyes were on her, many stopping whatever chores had been assigned. Clarke was not outside of the drop ship, so she had to get someone to go in and fetch the girl. Physically stepping inside did not seem like a necessity, or particularly wise. The sky people were tolerating her presence, but there was no need to 'push her luck'.

Even though she was just standing there, hand on hilt, there was one child staring at her with barely restrained ill will. She wondered if perhaps she had killed their parent, and if so, she grieved for them. She only hoped they would not be stupid enough to show her outright disrespect, or even attempt seeking vengeance. Lexa was weary of bloodshed and only wanted to 'start fresh', to be with Clarke, to live.

Finally Clarke made an appearance. Considering the drama of the past day, she seemed to be perfectly unaffected, and even felt lighter on the inside too. Whatever anger Clarke had held towards her over being forced to punish Ryder and Trix was gone. Lexa's lips twitched when Clarke smiled at her. Considering their 'scandalous' meeting, it was fairly ridiculous to pretend as though she wasn't affected by the sky girl, but 'old habits died hard' and Lexa couldn't stop herself from reverting back to formal acquaintance while in public.

"Clarke."

"Commander."

"Come, walk with me."

Clarke nodded and quickly made her way over. Lexa looked to her guards, telling them to keep their distance.

They walked slowly, away from the ash, towards the forest. Clarke shivered as a slight shift of the wind swept by. Lexa made a mental note to have a winter coat made for her as soon as possible.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked, surreptitiously glancing at her. "How is your arm?"

While it was more or less pointless to ask these questions, she still enjoyed doing so.

"Still hurts, but it's not too bad. No signs of infection either." Clarke winked. "Don't have to worry about me turning into a zombie."

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied with a half smirk. "Your mother is a competent healer."

"What about you? How's your calf?"

Lexa hid her limp well, but it was still there, plain to see for the keen observer, or for the one inside her mind and with access to every sensation, should she choose to feel them.

"I am well, Clarke. Thank you for asking."

In the cover of the forest now, they strolled for a few moments in silence, not looking at each other but feeling the looks just as if they were stealing glances like shy children. The comparison and general tranquillity left her visibly smiling.

When she did look to Clarke, Clarke was grinning which just made Lexa smile wider, far from the proper commander mask that should be in place.

"This is nice," said Clarke, daring to slip a cleanly bandaged hand into Lexa's while her guards watched on, albeit from afar.

Rather than remove her hand, she clasped Clarke's gently, allowing the heat from her own to caress and warm the parts not covered in rough fabric.

"How did that happen?" she said without thinking, glancing down at their joined hands.

The grin slipped away, as did the hand, and Lexa cursed herself for ruining the moment. Clarke shoved her hands into the pockets of her blue leather jacket.

It was some time before she muttered, "I did this to myself."

Lexa stopped walking, turning to Clarke, waiting for further explanation.

Clarke didn't look at her as she sighed and said, "After you were out of the mountain, I tried to steal a drop ship and come down on my own."

Lexa blinked in surprise even as her heart both swelled in affection and ached at the sheer stupidity of such a notion. Clarke would have gotten herself killed if she had come here by herself, especially handicapped.

"I know it was really stupid of me to even consider something so reckless but I couldn't let you face your people alone." She chanced a glance at Lexa. "I couldn't let you die. And I don't regret try-"

Again, without thinking, she kissed Clarke. The slight gasp that escaped her mouth was as much due to the colder temperature of Clarke's lips, as the enhanced sensation of kissing her in person. She held Clarke's chilled cheeks in her hands, and Clarke's own had shot out of her jacket to wrap around Lexa's waist. They stayed in each others space for awhile, soaking up each others heat (in more ways than one), and then somehow pulled themselves apart before completely getting carried away like they always did.

When more of her wits returned to her, she looked towards her hidden guards, both of which had discreetly averted their gazes. Lexa smirked and then glanced back at Clarke, who was mirroring the expression, but probably for different reasons.

This was confirmed when Clarke raised a suggestive eyebrow and said, "That was _really_ nice."

She clasped Clarke's hand and they continued their leisurely walk through the forest, simply enjoying each others company. Eventually her thoughts returned to more pragmatic tasks.

"Did you make any progress with the reapers?"

Clarke stiffened even before she asked the question, sensing the change in mood.

"Some," she said gruffly, resigning herself to matters of business. "There weren't any pure samples of the drug they used to create them, but we took a few blood and tissue samples and have started to analyze those. Same goes for the data Raven managed to scoop up from the damaged hard drive."

"Do you have any idea what the drug consists of?"

Clarke shrugged. "It's pretty complex, lots of synthetic compounds we haven't come across before. But it's pretty clear that it binds to both the epinephrine and dopamine receptors in the brain, skewing their perception of reality, enraging them. And it makes them crave more and more of it." She caught Lexa's eye. "Like a junkie."

There were those of her people lost to the bliss of various potent concoctions. She didn't suffer those sorts of things in Polis, anyone caught with distributing such substances were immediately and severely punished. Unfortunately these concoctions _were_ present in caverns and other hidden away locations outside of its metal walls and it was impossible to eradicate them completely.

"What will happen to them now that their supply has been cut off?"

"We came across one that was mindlessly trying to get its next fix. Physically, it was healthy enough, not malnourished at all." She paused, clearly thinking about the _type_ of nourishment in question. "We tied it up, took our first samples...but before we left, it had died."

Lexa sighed. "Yes, that has been our experience with them as well. We've tried many different herbal remedies to no effect."

She didn't need to speak to let Clarke know the 'clock was ticking'. Pretty soon all the reapers would expire and everything the sky people were attempting to do would be for naught. And Clarke would lose her one and likely only chance to prove her personal worth to the clan leaders, to reassure them that Lexa had indeed chosen wisely.

Clarke turned to her, placing her hand over top Lexa's. "It's going to be okay. We're going to figure this thing out in time." She smiled reassuringly, "I'm pretty determined."

Lexa nodded once, absentmindedly. "My people will go round up the remaining reapers and bring them back here. Hopefully by the time that task is accomplished, your people will have discovered a cure."

Clarke looked like she might argue at first but then nodded her assent. "I'll go get you the tone generator. We've charged it back up. Should be good for hours again."

The mention of that infernal device had her reflexively gripping Clarke's hand hard, apparently to an unpleasant level, as she felt Clarke's discomfort keenly.

She loosened her grip, wordlessly apologizing and then said, "My people can manage without it."

They shared another look, and then again, Clarke nodded. An awkwardness hung between them, full of a never ending ache to hold each other closer. Clasped hands was not nearly enough to quench their desire, would never be enough.

"Well, I suppose we should get to it," Clarke eventually said, biting her lip, sending a particularly strong pulse of longing her direction.

Lexa clutched her free hand tight to her sword, wanting to violently refute this suggestion and instead lose herself in Clarke's warmth and love once more. But now was not the time or place.

"Yes," she whispered, releasing a much softer sigh than the despair within warranted. "I suppose we should."

* * *

Lexa gave her orders to about twenty of her warriors and then went back into her tent, wondering what to do with herself for the hours to come. Sure she could pop in on Clarke from time to time, but she didn't want to distract from the sky people's efforts. So with nothing better to do, she picked up the heavy book from her throne and plopped herself down, fully expecting to be too anxious to actually become absorbed in it once more. To her surprise though, she found herself quickly immersed in the strange fantasy land of the past, where bizarre talking creatures roamed and children with special sticks could fight by precisely speaking odd words and flicking their wrists. She felt a kinship with the main character (even if he was rather melodramatic a lot of the time). They were both born to their roles, both fated to live and die for their people, so that they could have a better life and a chance at peace. That's all she ever wanted for her people, and now they were on the cusp of accomplishing just that. Everything had suddenly fallen into place...except for this last, crucial piece. 'Sink or swim' the reaper threat would be permanently eliminated in the coming days. Whether by the sky people's hands, or her own.

A disturbance outside broke the spell and she put the book aside, noticing that the candles had depleted many hours worth, and the dull sky was darkening further with the coming of night. Hands cold and cramped from inactivity, she slipped on a pair of skeleton gloves, and then went to investigate. Somewhat worse for wear, her people were back with the reaper horde in tow. All told there were maybe thirty of the creatures still living. She wished she could simply wave a magic wand at them and make them whole again, but that was not to be.

For reasons of additional safety, the bound and hooded reapers were herded into the recently constructed pen with not so gentle shoves. One of the more 'gone' reapers stumbled and fell, hood coming loose, and didn't get up again. A warrior moved to lift him to his feet, but before she could, the reaper began to spasm, eyes rolling back in its skull, frothing at the mouth.

Lexa silently sighed, recognizing the tell tale signs of imminent death. She moved closer, kneeling down beside him. She didn't know if he was capable of understanding her but said her people's parting words anyway.

"Yu gonplei ste-"

She stopped when she felt the familiar presence, bristling with energy and purpose. Lexa stood and turned to find Clarke and her mother rapidly approaching. Clarke held a medical kit in hand. Quickly, she got out of the way as they dropped down beside the no longer writhing man. Lexa then watched in a mixture of fascination and disconnection as Abby performed a similar procedure to that which she and Clarke had used on Anya. No one breathed into the foaming man's mouth, for which Lexa was glad. Anya was a notorious biter - as her many lovers could attest - but likely never as rough as the reapers themselves.

Eventually Abby gave up her fruitless pursuit and cut open the reapers shirt instead, Clarke wasting no time applying contact pads to his bare, heavily marked chest, shouting, 'clear', and then shocking the creature. When that produced no noticeable result besides the body arching momentarily, she turned a dial and shocked him again.

"Come on you bastard!" yelled Clarke, shaking the corpse's shoulders. "Come _on_!"

"Clarke," her mother said, placing a hand on her arm, "it's over."

"No!" Clarke snarled as viciously as the reapers themselves. "We need more time!"

And then without further ado, she raised her uninjured arm high and savagely brought it down onto his chest. Lexa heard the bone crack and almost winced, but was startled by the reaper jerking upright, gasping for breath, before falling heavily back down. He lay there breathing shallowly, but otherwise unmoving. It seemed like everyone was holding their breaths, such a deadly quiet pervaded the air.

The reaper opened his eyes and immediately Lexa knew something was different. The red twinge of insanity and rage was gone, replaced with a clear, focused gaze. This landed on her after a moment, widening slightly in recognition and confusion.

"Commander?" he rasped. He groaned, clutching at his chest. "What happened?"

Lexa looked to Clarke, both stunned at the unexpected turn of events, an electric charge of promise, of hope burgeoning between them, bringing their not so secret smiles forth for all the world to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a magical chapter. ;)


	28. Chapter 28

Six days later after most of the reapers had been restored to their former selves – to some degree anyway – a small group of grounders rode in to the camp.

Thanks to Lexa, Clarke knew trouble was brewing even before she saw who had arrived. She was inside the moderately warm drop ship, taking a break from securing their new 'home' with an electric fence and other security devices, playing chess with Raven, who was soundly beating her ass without even trying. This was especially baffling to Clarke because she considered herself a pretty capable opponent; a bit rusty, but capable nonetheless. The less gracious part of Clarke's mind wondered if Raven was somehow cheating. Raven just smirked at her, as if she knew precisely what Clarke was thinking.

"I told you I was good," Raven said nonchalantly, idly rocking one of the captured castles back and forth with her index finger. She had a good number of Clarke's pieces on her side of the table.

Clarke didn't respond and went back to wholeheartedly looking for a way out of imminent defeat. No matter how hard she searched, she couldn't see how to save her King, and she would be in checkmate within three moves. She looked to Wells, who was watching their match (well, her slaughter), face scrunched up in concentration. They made eye contact and he shrugged. He was just as stumped as she.

"Do you concede?" Raven said smugly after their non verbal interaction. "Or do you want to see this thing through to the bitter end?"

Clarke wasn't one to admit defeat and was still holding on to the hope that some brilliant burst of inspiration would strike and save the day. Unfortunately, their guests arrived before any could present themselves, and she looked up from the board and muttered, "shit."

"Sounds about right, Griffin. So do you-"

In a bit of a panic, Clarke hopped to her feet. "I am _so_ screwed."

"What's wrong, Clarke?" asked Wells also getting to his feet, accurately determining that her source of anxiety was _not_ the game before her.

Clarke groaned, running a hand down her face. "This is so not my day." Then resigned to her fate, she sighed and left her two puzzled friends behind without explanation. They quickly chased after her, buzzing near her ear with annoying and repetitive questions until she finally snapped.

She whirled on them, caught Raven's eye and said, "Anya's here."

Raven's eyes lit up and she grinned. "Oh this is gonna be good. I wish I had some popcorn."

"Real supportive," she scowled back.

"Who's Anya?" said Wells.

Raven placed her hands on her shoulders. "Woman up, Griffin. You got this." Raven gave her a sly glance. "And if you don't...can I have your stuff?" She tugged on Clarke's leather jacket. "We're about the same size."

" _Who's_ _Anya_?" said Wells again, rather alarmed now.

She glared at Raven once more before turning on her heel and marching towards certain doom.

* * *

By the time she got outdoors, a number of other curious teenagers and adults alike, were in tow. Clarke was too nervous to tell them off again, so she did her best to ignore them and instead find her calm centre. She often wondered if that even existed.

As she mentally prepared herself – _stalled_ \- Clarke watched as Lexa shook forearms with Gustus and then Anya inside her tent. They appeared to be markedly improved since her previous and ill fated visit. The puffiness of Anya's face had receded, replaced with her usual sharp, killer edges.

Clarke gulped and then listened as Lexa proceeded to bring them up to date about the current happenings around here. At least, she _tried_ to listen, but all of the whispering behind and around her quickly became too distracting and she gave up the attempt.

Raven came up beside her. "You need me to come with?"

"Why?" she asked suspiciously, figuring Raven just wanted front row seats to the show.

"I got your back."

"Me too," said Wells, appearing on her other side, in a somewhat jealous and possessive way. She felt a bit bad for him. First he was replaced with Lexa, and now this other girl too. At least, that's what he probably thought, but it wasn't true. They had grown up together, were almost like family. Nothing but death could permanently end their friendship.

She looked sideways between them and shook her head. She forced herself to smile. It came out more like a grimace. "I've got this."

Clarke took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way through camp and their gates, and then halted outside of Lexa's tent, blankly staring at the two foreboding guards blocking her entrance. She couldn't quite make out what was being said, so she honed in on Lexa again.

"...wise to allow a truce with those people?" said Anya. "They murdered over two hundred of our people."

Lexa reclined back into her throne, mirroring the woman's indifferent expression. "The queen did that."

"Our people will not see the distinction for long," returned Gustus. "Eventually their hatred will fester into action. There will be more bloodshed."

"Anyone who dares defy me will pay with their life," replied Lexa simply, though Clarke felt the flutterings of fear. Lexa waved a hand. "Enough of this talk. We have a visitor just outside. Come in, Clarke."

Anya stiffened at the mention of her name, hand going to the latch of her dagger. Lexa easily noticed the action and gave Anya a warning glare. The hand retreated, but the tense attitude did not lessen.

She took another deep breath, stepped forward, the guards moving aside, and found herself within feet of her mortal enemy. With the commander present this time, Anya did not immediately lunge at her, or otherwise make a move besides following her closely with her eyes. Clarke came to stand off to the side of Gustus, using him like a human shield, like the coward that she was.

He looked down at her and almost smiled. "I did not think it possible, but thank you, Clarke of the sky people."

She realized he must be talking about the reapers and somewhat reluctantly nodded her acceptance of his thanks. Besides the first one though, she hadn't had a ton to do with saving them. That had mostly been the medical staff's doing. Her contribution was more in helping out with their rehabilitation. Some of them had survived as reapers for years, mutilated almost beyond recognition, and were completely ignorant of every terrible thing they had done. At least in waking hours. She had heard them cry out in their sleep on more than one occasion, and she just knew the longer they were out of their trances, the more their subconscious nightmares would bleed through to the present. She frequently wondered if it wouldn't have been a kinder mercy to have simply let the mountain men kill them after all.

Lexa observed the three of them for a moment before clasping her hands together, index and thumb pointing out. Her eyes flicked between her and Anya.

"Whatever bad blood exists between you, it ends today."

Anya made fists, saying nothing, so Clarke bolstered herself, stepping around Gustus' protective frame and in front of Anya. The warriors hand twitched towards her dagger again and Clarke prepared to jump back if needs be.

In supplication, Clarke held out her uninjured arm. She held the quietly seething warriors gaze as she said, "You aren't getting rid of me, Anya, so you might as well just accept that."

Still, Anya made no move to even _pretend_ to make amends. "I cannot do that, _Clarke_."

"Why not?" she huffed, losing her patience a little. She dropped her arm. "What is your problem with me anyway? I get that you don't like me being able to control your commander...I wouldn't like that very much either if our positions were reversed. Thing is, she has to _let_ me do that, okay? I can't just make her tap dance at will or screech like a banshee." She got into Anya's face again like in the medical tent, doing her best to keep her voice level but failing miserably. "I mean, pretty much the _only_ time she's let me take control was to save _your_ sorry ass! And you're _completely_ ungrateful for it! So tell me, what gives?!"

Anya quivered in rage but continued to keep her peace. The warriors fiery gaze bore into her, as if willing her to combust into flame, and suddenly her own earlier thoughts snapped to the forefront of her mind, and Clarke finally understood what the origin of the hatred really was. The reason was so simple, so ordinary, that she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before.

"You're jealous," she said, stepping away. "You're jealous of our connection."

It was such a childish sentiment, hardly befitting of a hardened warrior, but her suspicion was all but confirmed when Anya's eyes widened and her nostrils flared. Then Anya glared at her one last time before making a hasty departure.

* * *

Clarke found her about an hour later, aimlessly wandering around the forest. Whether smart or not, she approached the woman, determined to do as Lexa said, and get their bad blood behind them. Anya bristled out of her ruminations, hand snatching up her dagger.

"Go away, sky girl, before I spill your precious blood."

Clarke stood her ground and said, "You don't need to feel threatened by me. Sure, we're really close, but that doesn't mean she's going to completely forget about you. You're her best friend. She's not here right now, listening," she added, in case that helped Anya open up.

It did.

Anya stalked closer, looking ready to murder. Clarke debated summoning Lexa, or waiting until she absolutely needed her help.

"It has already happened. With you in her mind, she can't see anyone else." Anya scowled. "This connection of yours will only grow stronger over time, until it is far worse than it ever was with the other one."

Clarke blinked at that, mind going into overdrive.

_Other one_? _Lexa had this connection with someone else? Who was this other person? Why didn't Lexa ever tell her about them? Why was she keeping secrets already? What happened to them..._

"Oh, you mean Costia," she said, finally cluing in, relaxing.

Anya nodded jerkily, blade still in hand, within easy killing distance. "She spent all of her spare moments with that _girl_...there were none left for anyone else." Anya glanced away and grumbled, "I did not appreciate this."

"Did you ever tell Lexa how you felt?" she said after licking her lips, eyeing the dagger warily.

The noncommittal grunt was answer enough. No surprise there. Grounders weren't big on voicing feelings. At least not directly.

"Being in a romantic relationship is no excuse for her constant neglect. I would've been pissed too." She caught Anya's eye. "But you still should've told her how you felt. People in love can be pretty blind." Seizing the moment she continued, "If I ever start to hog Lexa too much, you just let me know and I'll back off for a bit..." she smiled faintly, "but maybe leave the dagger out of it."

Anya smirked, tossed the blade in the air and caught it directly in its sheath.

They stared at one another for awhile and then Anya held out her arm. Clarke hesitantly clasped it, expecting Anya to squeeze her forearm numb, so that both would be faintly sore, but was pleasantly surprised to remain unscathed.

"I will hold you to your word, Clarke."

* * *

Uncertain when the unpredictable warrior meant to collect, Clarke decided to seize another moment and do something, or rather, _someone_ as soon as possible. She had been thinking about it nonstop ever since they met on Earth and shared those mindblowingly awesome (albeit wet) kisses, but one injury after another and the whole reaper mess had dissuaded any real action.

But not any longer.

Clarke barged into the commander's tent, intent on forcibly hauling out anyone other than her target for mass sex-truction, but found there was no need. Bathed in the glow of several candles, Lexa sat on the edge of her bed, boots off, hair undone, wrapped in nothing but one of her larger furs. When their gazes locked, a familiar and explosive arousal shot through her, and she nearly came on the spot.

"Clarke," Lexa said rather huskily, standing up. She let the fur drop to the ground, revealing the long awaited sight beneath. Even still somewhat mottled with bruises and the small poultices here and there, Lexa was beautiful, breathtaking, magnificent. She was pretty sure even if she looked for days straight, she wouldn't be able to find a flaw, not that she had anywhere near that amount of luxury.

Another wave of need went through her and she froze in place, waiting for her legs to remember that they weren't jelly, that they did indeed know how to propel her forward. Blood rushing, Clarke proceeded to whip off her clothing as she made her way to the glorious nude, breath becoming shallower and faster with every step. By the time she got to Lexa, her torso was completely bare, save for the bandage over the slow healing reaper bite.

Fingertips just sufficiently healed over, the tender skin seemed to burn sharply when it came into contact with Lexa's silky back. This unpleasant sensation was instantly replaced with that of Lexa's exquisite chest against her own, of Lexa's pliant lips colliding with hers, with the myriad of other feelings surging back and forth between them, magnifying, enhancing.

When Clarke moved her mouth to Lexa's neck, Lexa moaned low, hands momentarily stilling their exuberant caress of Clarke's available skin, and then dropped to her pants to blindly fumble with the zipper until she was liberated.

At which point Lexa let them fall into the bed, mere seconds before her legs would have crumpled beneath her. Colliding in a heap, her boots knocked into Lexa's lower legs, hitting the poultice covering her parting souvenir from the queen. Lexa groaned faintly in dull pain and Clarke winced reciprocally.

"Sorry," she muttered, breathlessly, kicking them off spastically, savouring the warmth and closeness of their bodies.

As soon as Lexa discarded of her underwear, she pushed herself into Clarke, and again groaned, this time in pleasure. They were both already ridiculously wet and she could literally feel that they weren't going to last very long this first 'real' time, especially since their every contact thrilled and threatened to overwhelm.

Clarke was more than willing to just let Lexa ravish her until then, but she also wanted to get a little payback, and to have her own chance at playing on Lexa's wonderland. So before Lexa could get too into what she was doing, Clarke flipped them around, simultaneously pushing her pelvis down hard and nipping at one of her breasts. Lexa jolted against her, moaning some more, nails digging a little into her back. Half grinning and panting, Clarke licked and teased Lexa's nipples, feeling her own nipples springing to life almost painfully. Fleetingly, she marvelled at Lexa's resolve in the shower, when she had been less than gentle with that part of her anatomy.

Apparently payback wasn't going to work very well, so she forewent that attack and proceeded to kiss back up towards Lexa's hungry mouth. Lexa's hands trailed down her back, gripping her ass, pushing Clarke into her some more. Message received loud and clear, Clarke began to grind into her, and within a very short time, Lexa found the first of her releases, pulling Clarke along for the ride. Since they were in the same location this time, the rapid body shifting effect upon orgasm was not nearly as visually pronounced, though it was still quite exhilarating.

Considering they had only gotten a taste of each other, she was somewhat startled to find Lexa silently crying beneath her, and even more startled to find she was also leaking from her eyes. Lexa pulled her down flush against her, cradling the back of Clarke's head in the crook of her neck.

"You're here," Lexa whispered emotionally. "I had started to lose hope...but you're here...in my arms." Lexa pressed a lingering kiss to her shoulder, hand dropping down to hug her even tighter, as if she were trying to meld their bodies the way their minds were. "I'm never letting go," she intoned, vowed.

Clarke smirked into her collar bone, planting her own kiss. "Forever's a long time. Pretty sure you'll get sick of me before then."

"No, Clarke," she said solemnly, "that is not possible." And then Lexa muttered sweet nothings into her ear, in Trigedasleng, and Clarke's heart melt all over again at the fearsome commander's true nature.

After awhile, Lexa's grip lessened and Clarke slithered out of her embrace to kiss down her flawless body, lingering on her flat and toned stomach, before going a little lower, enjoying the increasingly hitched breathing and tugs of arousal this elicited.

"Now where were we," she murmured to herself, thinking back to their almost tree house delight. "Oh yeah," she said with a sly glance upward, watching Lexa watch her with hooded eyes. She kissed the inside of one of her thighs while softly running her fingers along the inside of the other one, stopping just short of the soft, soaking curls where the terribly delicious throbbing pounded between them.

When Lexa whimpered, Clarke couldn't control herself any longer and buried her fingers into the slick, achingly soft heat, feeling as though Lexa had just done the same to her, but somewhere in the back of her fuzzy, pulsing mind knowing she hadn't. Regaining her composure and breath slightly, she pumped slowly a few times, adding her mouth to the mix, and immediately regretted this manoeuvre. It was all too much. Too much sensation, too many feelings, too much. She was dizzy, about to burst with the wealth of everything going on between them.

Lexa made a strangled sound in-between frustration and relief when Clarke removed her mouth. To make up for this lack of contact, she quickened the pace of her fingers considerably, pistoning, gaining speed like a locomotive on crack.

Collectively, they came hard, harder than she'd ever come before, and she nearly blacked out with the sheer immensity of sensation, later knowing that if she hadn't removed her mouth, she definitely _would_ have.

Collapsed against a muscular thigh, Lexa reached down with a shaking hand, touching her shoulder. "Are...you...okay?" Lexa said, breath still laboured.

She was completely boneless, swimming through the depths of her orgasm like a giant, graceless jellyfish. "Mmnph..." she replied, proud of herself for even being able to comprehend Lexa.

The trembling fingers weaved into her splayed hair, caressing, prompting. "Clarke?"

"Good," she muttered. She blinked up at Lexa with eyelids that struggled to remain opened, smiled dopily. "Perfect. You?"

"The same."

Eventually Clarke found the will to move from her place of bliss, and crawled back up beside Lexa who was gazing at her with a renewed sense of awe...and something else. No tears were shed this time, they had been burned up in the heat between them.

She laced their fingers together, marvelling at the fact that she could actually feel them properly for once, and returned the gaze, albeit, more wearily.

"That was pretty crazy," she said, still smiling like a dope. "I'm gonna need a break if you want to continue."

"Did I hurt you?" Lexa asked in a worried tone, ruining the mood. They seemed to have a talent for that.

Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes but couldn't help smirking. "Pretty sure I should be asking _you_ that this time."

Lexa remained serious, stroking the side of her face with the back of her hand. "I felt you slipping away, Clarke. You almost lost consciousness."

Clarke ran her fingers down Lexa's tattooed arm and then tried to shrug it off by making a joke. "What can I say, commander, I'm weak for you." Lexa's annoyance seeped through the still pretty strong remnants of ecstasy, and Clarke sighed. She looked Lexa in the eyes. "Yeah, okay, that part wasn't good," she traced the outline of Lexa's plumper than usual lips, "but this thing we share, there's no way on Earth we'd be given this gift, if we weren't meant to make love to one another. It was a new experience. We probably just need to practice a lot more," she grinned as she cupped one of her breasts, squeezing gently, "until we get the hang of it."

Lexa didn't look or feel too reassured, so Clarke scuttled closer, giving her a kiss that would say what words couldn't. When they parted, Lexa looked at her and then nodded, pulling Clarke against her breast once more, keeping to her vow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hope that wasn't too terrible...I have trouble judging how ridiculous the erotic descriptions are/I purposely try to make it a little silly...so I'm rather fond of 'mass sex-truction'. Lmao
> 
> And 'pistoning'...you're welcome. You know who you are.
> 
> Apparently having 'real' sex could prove problematic. Lol. But according to Clarke, practice makes perfect, so... ;)
> 
> Jealous Anya is adorbs. I wanna squeeze that damn girl, but not too hard, cuz she might bite, and not in the good way.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm thinking there's only going to be a couple more chaps at this point, so be prepared to say goodbye to our little mind melding gay babies.
> 
> Also I made a clexa vid awhile back that I never posted. This chap reminded me about it. Check it out if you want: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPj2ayOhacw&feature=youtu.be

With the battles at an end, and the once reaper men as healed as they were ever going to get, Lexa's people scattered back to their own lands. Which was a necessity as the addition of nearly one thousand mouths to feed was a considerable strain on this area of the forests resources. If they had all cohabited for much longer, food levels would have dwindled to such low levels as to beg for further strife. Even so, times were less than ideal food wise.

With winter coming, and some of the animals beginning to go into hibernation, the arkers were hard pressed to secure enough food to make it through the long, dreary months. The remaining supplies on the too crowded drop ship would not last more than another two weeks. So the decision was made to split their people in half. Around five hundred of the younger and frailer arkers had gone to live in the mountain, in relative safety and security.

The drop ship had been gutted to make room for the additional ninety-seven of them, and for general comfort. It now resembled a massive dorm room, people and things scattered haphazardly, no space gone to waste. Solar powered generators supplied heat for the behemoth structure and ensured that they wouldn't at least all freeze to death come winter.

Only having a truce, and a tenuous one at that, Lexa had not been able to offer much in the way of assistance. At least not directly. Any grounders who wanted to help them were welcome to it, but none were commanded to hunt for the sky people, or otherwise assist in winter preparations. Many of the younger generation had learned theoretical and basic survival skills on the Ark. But Clarke, thanks to Lexa, knew considerably more than this, and along with Lincoln and Echo could lead her people to the preferred hunting grounds at specific times of day to catch certain game, making their jobs easier, though still far from simple.

A lot of the arkers looked to Clarke as their leader, but being only seventeen, she could not officially take the title. That once more belonged to Jaha, the only person willing to take on the ill fated position.

The queen's head had been retrieved a day or so after her death, and promptly sent to the Ice Nation, giving Lexa a morbid sense of closure. If the surviving members had any sense, they would finally bend the knee and join her coalition. To aid in this outcome, Lexa had needed to go there to make sure a suitable replacement was chosen...as she had to do for two of the other clans as well. Since Clarke was needed at camp, they had parted ways again, only a few days after their first bed romp, which had left both considerably depleted.

Though they kept in touch every day, to talk, to train, to sleep together, in both its connotations, they had never felt lonelier. Now that they knew what it was like to be around one another in person, it wasn't enough 'in spirit'. Still, Clarke kept up a brave face and threw herself wholeheartedly into ensuring her people's survival. Only those closest to her had an inkling of the depths of her sadness.

Finally, the day after Christmas, she had had enough. It seemed as though everyone had someone now, even Wells, and she couldn't stand the separation any longer. She asked Raven to come with her to Polis (Finn had moved on alarmingly fast after their messy breakup and he was now onto his third girl since Raven, and no doubt would find himself in anothers bed before the year was out) but the stubborn mechanic declined saying there was always something else that needed fixing. However, Jake reassured her that he and his colleagues could handle the camps upkeep, so off the two of them went, with a few hugs and kisses and no mention of a guard detail. Everyone knew Clarke could handle herself with a blade; a blade she treasured above all her other possessions, because Lexa had gifted it to her before her departure, as well as a heavily fox fur lined coat and matching grey gloves.

The Arkers had fashioned their own winter clothing, albeit much cruder than the finely tailored calf length hooded coat Clarke wore. Yes, they brought down their own skilled clothing makers, but they weren't accustomed to the materials at hand, or _doing_ everything by hand, and consequently weren't producing their best efforts just yet.

To make the trek feasible, the bundled up girls took two of the five horses in the Arkers possession. Navigating their way around the heavy snowdrifts severely impeded their progress, but there was nothing for it, and it was still considerably better than walking. As always, Clarke instinctively knew where she was headed, even with the usual landmarks masked in layers of virgin snow.

There wasn't much need for conversation, so the majority of their two day journey was completed in silence. That is, until they had an unexpected visitor that second night. They were in the middle of dinner when the horses started to paw at the snow, snuffling, clearly agitated by something. Clarke shared a look with Raven and then they both reached for their respective weapons; Clarke her sword, Raven her bow.

Blade unsheathed, Clarke crept as silently as she could considering the crunchy snow underfoot. It was full dark now, with nothing but an obscured moon and the small, crackling fire behind them for light. She scanned the area, looking for signs of an intruder, but seeing and hearing nothing except for the increasingly unnerved animals.

"I know you're out there!" she called to the darkened trees all around. "Show yourself!"

Predictably there was no response and she stood her ground, listening, waiting for them to make a move.

When they did, she found herself frozen to the spot.

As if re-living her own trauma, she watched wide eyed as a great wolf emerged from behind a pile of snow. In reality, it _was_ the pile of snow. Vision distorted by a sudden crippling fear, she imagined the beast to be even more monstrous in size than it actually was. To her it seemed like her sword was nothing but a dagger compared to its immensity.

With large glowing green eyes, that were disturbingly similar to Lexa's own, it observed her unconcernedly, but with some interest nonetheless.

Lexa appeared then, equally shaken as her, but more clear headed. "Whatever you do, Clarke, don't look away. It will pounce at the first sign of weakness." Lexa's warm breath ghosted off her chilled neck, raising the hairs. "Take a deep breath. Remain calm."

Easier said than done, she wanted to retort, but couldn't because of the terror seizing her vocal chords.

"Breathe, Clarke," she prompted again, her own voice quavering. "Breathe."

She did so, willing herself to exude confidence and fearlessness as she had done many times before while on the hunt. The wolf continued to approach slowly, eyes never leaving hers, and then stopped and stared about some distance away, flicking its huge bushy tail. She hoped it would get bored of this uneventful standoff and simply leave, and it might have, if Raven hadn't lost her nerve and loosed an arrow.

"No!" said Lexa, panicking, immobilizing Clarke.

The arrow pierced its side doing little more than enraging it. Ears pressed back, it snarled and bounded towards its attacker, in gigantic strides. Raven was bowled over before she could shoot again, but thankfully the raised bow acted as a temporary shield against massive fangs intent on ripping her to shreds.

"Raven!" Clarke screamed, finally springing into action.

She jumped towards the fiend, slashing and stabbing at its back and hind legs, trying to draw its attention away from the girl beneath it before the bow snapped in half. This she accomplished just as the polished wood cracked, and then some. The wolf whirled on her instead, teeth bared, and lunged.

"Clarke!" yelled both Raven and Lexa as it raised a mighty claw and swiped at her.

Somehow she managed to evade the worst of the blow - most of it glancing off the tree beside her, tearing through the frozen bark like it was silk - and only took a single talon in the leg. Still, the razor sharp curve ripped clean through her coat and pants and brought forth fox fur and dark crimson. Reflexively, she slashed at it again, clipping its chest, barely making a dent.

Clarke rolled out of the way of its next swat, leaving a thin semi-circular trail of blood in her wake, not unlike the wolf itself. Hurting and incensed, it wasn't going to back down, so she was immediately assailed with more attempts to tear open her stomach and feast on the entrails within. It was only with frantic parrying of her sword that she was able to fend off the hell beast at all. Completely on the defensive now, she was unable to land a single blow, tiring fast, constantly fearful of stepping into a deep drift of snow or bumping into a tree and getting herself stuck, and dead.

"Save yourself!" she shouted to Raven with as must gusto as she could muster.

Finally, it caught almost her entire arm in its jaws, wrenching sideways with such force that there was a sickening crack as her forearm broke, the pain of which made her drop her sword. Then it swung its enormous head sideways and flung her ten feet into a tree. Lights exploded in the back of her skull and she fought to remain conscious. Bleeding and broken on the ground, she knew she was done for then and looked for Lexa, wanting her angelic face to the be the last thing she saw. Dishearteningly, she was nowhere to be found, and Clarke gloomily surrendered herself to her fate.

The wolf stalked slowly towards her, as if savouring the final moment before the kill. Suddenly it jerked back as something else grabbed its attention. She could just make out the second protruding shaft from its other massive side.

"No, Raven," she said weakly, sinking into the snow. "Run."

It took the bait again and turned on its bleeding haunches and charged at the small, seemingly insignificant dark form. When it was some distance away, there was a sudden explosion of fur and flesh, raining down hot and sizzling upon contact with the snow. Startled, she jumped slightly in her prone position, wondering if it had somehow stepped on a mine like Murphy and his friends.

"Clarke!" called Raven, sprinting over to her as fast as the terrain would allow. She dropped her Frankenstein bow, jerry rigged together with whatever had been on hand, and assessed how badly Clarke was injured. "Fuck," she hissed. "Fuck that bastard."

Clarke was afraid to look herself, but did anyway. She flinched at the row of deep fang marks, at the way her arm bent out at an unnatural angle, feeling once more nauseated from such an attack. Without question, this one was considerably worse than the reaper bite. By some miracle the wolf's massive jaw hadn't taken her arm clean off at the the shoulder.

"I'll be right back," Raven said, hopping up and dashing back to their supplies. If the horses hadn't been so well tied to the trees, they would have lost everything in their fright.

Having picked up a fair amount of first aid from Clarke over the past couple of months, Raven knew what to do, and got to it, turning on a flashlight to see better.

Her face stung suddenly as Raven slapped her. "Stay awake now. You can't go into shock out here."

Clarke nodded dully and distracted herself from the considerable amount of pain by staring dizzily at the remains of the great wolf. Steam still billowed out of its intact back half, with no apparent cause.

Raven must have noticed her gaze because she answered her unasked question. "Explosive arrows. Early prototype. Haven't had a chance to test them out in action though." She smirked slightly, though her features were clearly still strained at the incredibly close call at losing her friend. "Lucky for me that it worked or I would've been joining you on that things dinner menu."

"Of course it worked," she said faintly. "You're awesome."

Raven chuckled, securing the final bandages in place, stemming the flow of blood from a number of deep lacerations. Whatever surgery was required would need to wait until after they got to Polis. And even then, she wasn't quite sure what they could for her besides resetting the bone and giving her a cast. Clarke wasn't relishing the rest of the ride there, though thankfully it wasn't too much further.

As Raven was fashioning a sling, she said, "Where's your girl at?"

Clarke clamped her jaw shut, willing herself not to cry at Lexa's abandonment in her final moment of need. "I don't know. She was here...but then she...wasn't."

Raven said nothing at first, gently taking her mangled arm and lifting it into the sling. "I'm sure she had her reasons." She tied the top knot. "You can go to her if you want. I don't mind."

Clarke wasn't sure that she _did_ want to at that particular moment in time, but she went anyway. She found herself in Lexa's house, a fire crackling in the hearth, and Lexa herself huddled up on the couch, hair awry, visibly shaking, clearly just finishing up a recent bout of heavy crying.

She was about to console Lexa when the woman's head snapped up, glaring at her. "Why didn't you take a proper guard with you?!"

Clarke opened her mouth to speak when Lexa jumped off the couch and down her throat. "Don't tell me you didn't think you needed one! It's the dead of winter, Clarke! How many times do I have to tell you how dangerous it is!"

Lexa advanced on her, teeth bared, and Clarke had the unsettling feeling of facing her second wolf for the night. She shrunk back, unable to respond.

"You _know_ what happened to my mother!" she continued, pressing Clarke into the wall, cornering off her escape. "You _know_ how losing her nearly destroyed me! And yet you still went off like a fool! And for what?!"

Reinvigorated by Lexa's own indignation, she finally launched an offensive. "Well, _excuse_ me for wanting to see my girlfriend!"

"You see me everyday!" roared Lexa, gesturing angrily with her hand. "You see me right now!"

"It's not the same thing, and you know it!" Clarke pushed forward, making Lexa back away. "If it was so dangerous, y _ou_ could've come to _me_!"

" _What_?!" she snapped, apparently not following.

"After your duties were concluded, you could've come to me!" Clarke bit her lip to prevent shedding of tears. Still, she couldn't stop her voice from breaking as she whispered, "Why didn't you come back to me? You said you would never let me go...but then you did."

A worked up Lexa's face fell and she turned away. Her voice was thick with repressed emotion when she next spoke. "It's not that simple, Clarke. I am the commander of twelve clans."

She paused, and Clarke imagined she was thinking, ' _of which you aren't a part_.'

"My duties never end. I thought you understood this."

"I did...I do, but it's not fair." The tears were flowing now, partially from the current situation and partially from the intense and sharp throbbing in her arm and her leg. "I want you all to myself. I want it to be just the two of us, even if it's just for a little while." She stepped into Lexa's space, resting her forehead against Lexa's, trying to get a hold of herself but failing. "I _need_ you, Lexa," she sobbed. "There's no point without you."

Eyes pained, Lexa swallowed. "Thank you, Clarke."

"For what?" she asked, confused out of her misery enough to cock a brow.

Lexa kissed her forehead softly before pressing them back together. "For living. Tonight. Always. Thank you." She took Clarke's head to her breast, a feeling of bittersweet serenity enveloping her. "Clarke," she said after a little while, pulling back to look her in the eye, "I know you're hurting right now, but you have to keep moving. It's not safe to linger. All that blood will attract further predators. Polis is only a few more hours ride from your current position." A hint of a smile pressed her lips as she touched Clarke's face. "I'll meet you along the way. Just hold on until then."

Clarke nodded wearily as Lexa took her leave. She went back to her body to find that Raven had thrown a thermal blanket on her while she finished packing up the tent and their other supplies. She watched groggily as Raven then tied the two horses together with a bit of spare rope. Clarke was puzzled until Raven came to collect her, hoisting her onto the one horse with difficulty and then climbing on behind her.

For the third time in as many months, she went for a ride with another, though this was considerably the least pleasant of the lot. Constantly on the verge of passing out, Raven had to keep talking in her ear to make sure they were staying on track. They seemed to move depressingly slowly, and yet her arm jarred with ever fall of the horses foot.

Finally when she didn't think she could hold on any longer, pin pricks of light shone through the black before them, getting bigger at an alarming rate, like fireballs shot out of a cannon. Snow was kicked up from fast flying horses that came to an abrupt stop mere feet from them. They turned around, revealing a low lying, covered sled of some sort.

As the darkness shrouded over her mind, she felt herself being lowered into familiar arms, heard a sad exhalation of 'Oh, Clarke,' and carried the short distance to the new conveyance. Lexa laid her down flat and tapped the top of the enclosure. They took off again, but this time the ride was much smoother, and she gratefully lost consciousness with the caress of her lover across her brow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am sadistic, aren't I?


	30. Chapter 30

Trikru had no notion of New Years. So it was a source of some confusion when the commander invited her closest friends and colleagues to her house to celebrate it. The household and kitchen staff bustled around in a great frenzy, fearful to get even the slightest detail wrong and incur the wrath of their heda.

Ever since the wounded sky girl had been rushed into their city, heda had been rather unpredictable, harkening back to the days when her previous love was lost. One minute she would be quiet and withdrawn, the next she would snap and snarl like an angry beast, the next she would inexplicably chuckle as if someone unseen had said something amusing. They had heard whispers of the commanders sometimes strange behaviour, and even caught her talking to herself on occasion. The most recent of which had been incredibly loud and unpleasant. None of them were foolish enough to question this erratic behaviour out loud though.

Preparations finally at an end, Sybil anxiously waited for the dinner party to arrive, hopeful that this time the commander _would_ enjoy the rabbit stew. She was still haunted by the last time heda had smashed everything in a blind rage, even though her employer immediately apologized for the mess before making a hasty departure to her room for some hours. They had listened in apprehension as she knocked over more things upstairs, wondering how they could lessen her pain, knowing there was little they could do. Only time could heal those wounds. But Sybil had caught a glimpse of heda with the sky girl in the guest room, and the sight had brought a smile to her lips. They had been holding hands and talking softly to one another and the commander had seemed happy to be in her presence.

So it was no surprise to Sybil that heda had requested the sky girl to be placed by her side, in the seat of honour. The story of her battle with a great wolf had spread like wild fire through the city, and the arriving parties were forced to hold her in reluctant respect. Few could boast of surviving such an encounter. Though, Sybil had it on good authority that she had not defeated it on her own.

Drugged up as Clarke was, she still couldn't help but notice how Raven and Anya kept stealing glances of each other. Admittedly, they were directly across from one another, so it was nearly impossible not to stare at least a little bit, but this was considerably more than that. She glanced sideways at Lexa, who had the hint of a smirk, clearly picking up on whatever was going on between them as well.

"So Anya," Clarke said nonchalantly after taking a sip of water; wine would have been a _bad_ combo, "has Raven told you of her _amazing_ skill with a bow?"

Both Anya's and Raven's eyes snapped to hers, the former curious; the latter, embarrassed? Raven, embarrassed? Was that even possible? Oh, this was going to be a very interesting dinner. A very interesting dinner indeed. For the moment, the dull throb in her shattered arm and ripped leg was forgotten.

Anya looked back to Raven with interest. "No, she hasn't."

"Oh well, then she should _definitely_ give you a demonstration after dinner."

Raven glared at her before looking apologetically at Anya. "She's exaggerating. I'm not that good."

"Nonsense!" said Clarke merrily, enjoying being a shit disturber after days of terrible pain filled boredom. "She struck the blow that killed the wolf."

The grounders being of a taciturn disposition, there hadn't been much in the way of conversation around the table, so several heads turned towards them at this piece of information, Gustus and Indra included.

Anya raised an eyebrow at Raven with new found respect. "Really?"

"Well yeah," muttered Raven, staring at her plate, moving the food around in obvious avoidance of the attractive warriors unerring gaze.

Clarke wanted to laugh at her friends unusual abashed manner. Instead she decided to keep poking the bear. "It was something else. I've never seen anything like that in my life."

She left out the part about the explosives. Mentioning that would somewhat lessen the accomplishment and skill required. Right now everyone was thinking Raven had shot it dead through the eye, or something along those lines.

Anya continued to stare at Raven in that generally unnerving way Lexa was so fond of using against subordinates, to stop them from acting out. Except in this case, that was clearly not the desired outcome.

Clarke watched in amazement as Raven started to flush faintly, the red slowly but surely creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. The table was deathly silent and she suddenly felt bad at what she had started - especially since Raven had saved her life - but was unsure how to salvage the situation. Then she felt a hand on her knee, accompanied by a light squeeze.

Lexa held up a glass. Everyone's eyes shot to her, except for Raven's. Lexa began to give a toast but Clarke was only half paying attention. Out of the spotlight, Raven gave her a nasty look as if to say, 'you're dead.' Clarke gulped, knowing there were a lot of ways in which the genius could make it look accidental.

After the short speech was concluded, the awkward silence engulfed them once more, so Lexa did her best as hostess to prompt further conversation.

"Tell us what it was like to live in the sky, Clarke. I am sure my guests are most anxious to learn more about your people."

Lexa looked out across the table, as if defying them to disagree, and one by one they nodded their assent.

Now with eight fairly intimidating grounders staring at _her_ , she felt a bit tongue tied and did her best not to blush as she launched into as flattering of a portrayal as she could of the Ark. All the while she was conscious of the smirk on Raven's face, and she just hoped this meant her friend had reconsidered her death threat.

Apparently not. For as soon as Clarke found herself alone after the awkward dinner, Raven stalked up to her and hissed, "What the hell, Clarke? Why did you have to say anything?"

"I'm sorry," she said, sincerely meaning it.

Raven glared at her harder. There was a note of endearing hysteria with her next words. "She wants to see me in action right now!"

Clarke's mind immediately went to a dirty place and Raven recognizing the look, smacked her lightly on her good arm. "Out of the gutter, Griffin! This is serious! What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm going to make a complete fool of myself!"

Snapping back to attention, Clarke placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, you're not. You're awesome. You can do anything you set your mind to. You got this, Reyes," she added with a smirk, echoing Raven's own words when going to deal with Anya. "Deep breaths, Raven, deep breaths."

Raven took her advice and then gave her another dark look. "If this goes poorly, you are so dead."

Despite Raven's words, Clarke couldn't help but smile. Her friend was so painfully smitten. It was adorable. Clarke only hoped Anya would return the attraction to the same degree. Raven was long overdue for some loving.

"I think she may," said Lexa hours later as they went for a stroll through the mostly sleeping city. "I haven't seen Anya stare at someone like that in quite some time."

It was the first fresh air Clarke had gotten since coming here. She was gulping in as much as possible, even though the frigid air burned slightly. Clarke snuggled closer to Lexa, for stability, for warmth and just because she could.

"This is nice," she said, sighing in contentment, repeating words from a past stroll through the forest. "I could get used to this."

"As could I," Lexa said, kissing the side of her head.

They slowly walked past the quaint little houses for a time, doing their best to avoid patches of ice on the cobblestone pathways. They stopped by the frozen statue of the commander, and Clarke walked around the base to get a good look from every angle. She tried not to laugh at Lexa's slight discomfort of this undue scrutiny of her larger than life resemblance.

"It's actually pretty flattering," Clarke said after awhile. Lexa's posture relaxed and Clarke couldn't help but smirk. "Whoever crafted this has some serious skill." She glanced sideways at Lexa, "You know, I always thought it would be kind of fun to mess around with metal work. Sometimes I feel too confined with two dimensional planes."

"It would be my pleasure to introduce you to the sculptor," said Lexa. "I'm sure they would be happy to meet someone interested in their work. And perhaps they would even be willing to teach you the basics."

Clarke smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that would be great."

Lexa looked up into the starry night sky and said, "Happy New Year, Clarke," sexily in Trigedasleng.

"How can you tell it's after midnight?" she asked, looking where Lexa was looking.

"I believe it's customary to share a kiss at such a time," Lexa said with a smirk, annoyingly dodging the question. Then she turned to face Clarke, eyes shining expectantly in the moonlight and Clarke decided she didn't really care how Lexa knew, or if she was just pretending to know the time. They hadn't kissed for real in months, and when their cold lips met again, the delicious sensations simultaneously warmed her to her core and took her breath away, making her pretty light headed. Whatever drugs Lexa's personal healer had given her was nothing compared to the restorative properties of pure love. Various pains in her body forgotten, she pushed herself hard into Lexa, and even with their thick winter coats between them, Clarke was satisfied to hear her groan and tug at her clothing.

Unfortunately, she quickly became frustrated for two reasons. Her cast was getting in the way of holding Lexa properly. And there was an ear shattering scream from one of the houses, effectively killing the mood.

_You have_ _ got _ _to be kidding me!_

They broke apart immediately and shared a look. Lexa raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'I don't suppose there's any point in me telling you to stay put?' and Clarke held her gaze as if to say, 'Not one bit.'

Lexa sighed slightly and then they hurried towards the source of the chilling disturbance. Save for her dagger, Lexa was unarmed, but she still made a point of standing protectively in front of Clarke while she kicked down the door of the house and made her way inside. Clarke was expecting all manner of horrors, of blood everywhere and a knife wielding psycho lunging at Lexa. Instead of a scene straight out of one of the very old horror movies she had seen, there was instead only a startled couple sitting on the floor, holding each other close.

Her first impression was that she and Lexa had just interrupted something best not displayed in public. The woman's hair was dishevelled and her skin was flushed and sweaty with exertion. When she realized they were more or less fully clothed, and that the woman had been crying, she dismissed this possibility. Her next conclusion was far less charitable. Clarke's blood boiled, thinking the man had just beat the woman (who had presumably uttered the piercing cry) and then proceeded to beg for forgiveness for his heinous act.

"Commander?" the man said in confusion when he had gotten over his fright.

Lexa observed them silently for a moment longer before putting away her dagger. "Forgive me," she said softly, turning away, taking an indignant Clarke with her.

Clarke rounded on her at the first opportunity. "What the hell, Lexa?! Why did you just let him get away with it?!"

She cocked an eyebrow and said, "Get away with what, Clarke?"

"That bastard just beat her!" Clarke could sense Lexa getting even more puzzled by her train of thought which made her question her own judgement. "Didn't he?"

Lexa shook her head. "You didn't see?"

"See what?" she huffed in impatience and some embarrassment. The cold air exploded against Lexa's face only to disappear immediately. Clarke had been so focused on the man and woman that she hadn't noticed much else.

"There was a newborn there, Clarke."

A chilliness not caused by the cold seeped through her then, completely eradicating the temporary warmth instilled by Lexa's kiss.

She licked her lips. "Are you saying it was...dead?"

If so, that was just about the worst way to start off the New Year. She couldn't remember, but she thought it might have even been considered bad luck by some cultures in the past.

Lexa's face was unreadable as she said, "No, not dead."

An unfamiliar and intense sadness swirled within Lexa at these words and Clarke wanted nothing more than to go back five minutes in time, to when there wasn't a gaping hole swallowing up the happiness of her lover, and herself as a consequence.

"Then what was wrong? Why were they so sad? Why are you so-" Her drug addled brain finally clicked making the connection. "Oh God," she said, eyes widening. "It was mutated, wasn't it?"

Lexa's lips pressed tightly together as she jerkily nodded. Then she took her arm again and led her back to the biggest house in the city. Nothing close to a mansion, but sizable nonetheless. To all appearances, the party members had all left, something Clarke was extremely grateful for. She was in no mood for further company, and was suddenly very tired. Sensing this, Lexa took her to her room, her _own_ room this time, not the guest one, and proceeded to undress her and help her into a thin nightgown. Once Lexa had done the same, she lay down beside Clarke under the furs, pulling her back into her front, melding them together in search of some physical comfort.

Despite her weariness, Clarke couldn't for the life of her close her eyes. She was afraid to find horrific looking babies lurking there, crying for their mothers who had abandoned them in the forest.

"What will become of...?"

"Him," finished Lexa, arms stiffening against her waist. After a lengthy pause. "It all depends on what the mother decides to do."

"The father has no say?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

"Not in this matter. The mother would be required to feed the child daily. She decides whether or not she wishes to take on this burden...and go into exile. If the father does not wish to leave their home and clan for this purpose, he doesn't have to accompany them. And few would blame him."

Even only allowed one child ever on the Ark, deadbeat parents were all too common. It was the nature of a harsh and depressing totalitarian life in space.

"Why do they _have_ to go into exile if they decide to keep the child?"

"It is our way."

"Yeah, I know that, Lexa, but _why_? What are your people so afraid of? Why did they shun the rehabilitated reapers and basically force them into self exile too? Why are they so against physical deformity of _any_ kind?"

Lexa was silent for a time, her warm breath soothing on the back of her neck. "They fear what they don't understand. They think...as I once did...that these mutated people are weak and will taint the bloodlines, infecting future generations."

"But that's nonsensical," retorted Clarke. "It's the 'normal' looking people who keep having them!"

Lexa nodded against the back of her head. "Yes."

"So what will _you_ do?" she said in the ensuing silence.

"What do you mean?"

"If the mother decides to leave the baby out in the cold, are you just going to _let_ her?"

Lexa sighed heavily, her sweet scent wafting over Clarke, momentarily making her forget about her not so quiet indignation. But Lexa's next words brought it back again. "What would you have me do?"

"Stop her. Change the laws. Make it so that babies don't have to die horribly from exposure...or worse."

"Change takes time, Clarke."

Her father had spoken similar words of wisdom in the cave, which made her think about a certain adorable outcast.

"That may be, but I just think it's a shame that your people can't seem to see past their affliction. I mean, I met this sweet little girl in that cave you directed my people towards, and there was nothing wrong with her. Sure it was a bit hard not to stare at her nose but-"

"What did you say?" Lexa bristled behind her.

"I said her nose was-"

Lexa released her grip, swearing in Trigedasleng. With some difficulty Clarke flopped around to face her, propped upright slightly by the pillows. "What?"

Distractedly, "I don't know how many times I've told her not to talk to strangers...I thought she understood, but apparently not."

Something suddenly dawned on Clarke. "Wait a second...you're the one with kind eyes?"

Lexa seemed puzzled at first but then nodded and sighed.

Just when Clarke didn't think she could love Lexa anymore than she already did, she was proven wrong. She wanted to kiss her silly then but instead waited patiently for Lexa to collect herself and go on.

"Shortly after I became commander, I went for a walk with Gustus to clear my head. There were so many responsibilities thrust upon me at once, and despite all of my preparation and training, I found myself quite dizzy at the prospect of leading...everyone. We came across a crying child of no more than two. Her mother had recently perished, and I couldn't leave her to die," Lexa's voice caught with emotion, "not when she clung on to my boot so fiercely."

She paused for a moment, absentmindedly touching Clarke's cast before continuing.

"Gustus told me not to be foolish, to forget about her, but I couldn't do it...I _had_ to help her any way I could, even if it was mostly from afar."

Again she stopped, this time with a slight frown, feelings of old uncertainty resurfacing.

"And you were right to," said Clarke, softly stroking up and down Lexa's arm with her good hand. Lexa nodded in a not entirely convinced way. "What then?"

"I employed the services of a local villager to leave food at a predetermined place every week. I never explained the reason and I was never questioned. I made the child understand that they must never stray too far from a certain place, that they must always be silent, that they must never approach or talk to anyone that was not myself or Gustus." She caught Clarke's eye. "Something I apparently failed at."

"To be fair," reassured Clarke, "I was pretty persistent." Lexa seemed lost in thought so Clarke squeezed her arm, silently prompting. Lexa obliged.

"Whenever I could, I came to teach her our language, how to groom herself..."

Clarke refrained from mentioning the disreputable state she had found Meesha in.

"...and when she was older, how to climb trees and how to defend herself with a blade."

"Yeah, she was pretty quick to bring that thing out," Clarke said, half smiling, half grimacing at the memory. Her little dirty hand clutching it so tightly brought a fresh ache to her heart.

Lexa's eyes snapped to hers, a little stricken. She swallowed. "She didn't-"

"No, she didn't try to kill any of us," she replied with a reassuring smile. "Just sent us a clear warning." She paused a beat. "One thing I never found out though...she said she had to keep moving every few days. Why did you tell her to do that?"

Lexa rubbed her forehead. "Commanding Meesha to stay stationary proved to be problematic. After awhile, she attracted unwanted attention from rogue elements not affiliated with any clans." Lexa closed her eyes, pained. "When I found out how they had chased her one day, and how she had only escaped thanks to her size and a fortunately placed hole, I knew I had to rethink her means of security. If not for Gustus, I surely would have taken her to my own home and damn the consequences. Gustus convinced me otherwise and located five different, hidden away places for her to stay in, telling her to alternate between them every few days. Assuming she kept to the schedule, I would be able to locate her on any given day." She shook her head. "I should have remembered she would be in that area...I think my subconscious led you there." She sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around Clarke's waist and resting her head against her chest. "It had been a long day."

They stayed like that for a time, wallowing in an unspoken bittersweet sadness.

Eventually Clarke pulled herself out of it and couldn't help but to ask, "Did Costia know?"

Lexa shook her head. "No one knew. Only Gustus."

"How come _I_ didn't know earlier?"

"I haven't been to see Meesha for many months...not since Costia..." Lexa cleared her throat when the repressed emotion swallowed her voice. "I've been sending Gustus in my stead. I didn't trust myself around her, to keep myself proper." She whispered, "I told you before that I was broken...and I didn't want her to see me like that. She needed to remain strong."

Clarke brought her good arm up to cradle Lexa's head. "You're not broken anymore. You should go see her." She kissed the top of Lexa's recently washed, perfumed hair. "I'm not the only one that needs you."

In response, Lexa pulled her even closer. Before long they were drifting off to sleep, content in the knowledge, the absolute _certainty_ , that they each had the love of a good woman. And nothing, and no one was going to stand in the way of them being together.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High five if you actually remember Sybil from the first chap. She only had one line.
> 
> Was anyone actually surprised that Lexa was involved with Meesha?
> 
> Anyone else turned on by Lexa kicking the door down?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a short, sweet, all around fluffy ending for y'all. My specialty.

Ten months later...

Nerves suddenly getting the better of her, she stalled for time by stopping outside of the cabin, using a puddle to absentmindedly fix up her appearance after the journey here. Not for the first time, she wondered why she was even doing this. It wasn't strictly speaking, necessary. And yet, despite some of her grander, unpopular ideas, she had always been fairly traditional at heart.

Bolstering herself once more, she walked over to the cabin and knocked. Almost immediately the door swung open, revealing her target. He smiled and beckoned her inside, and she knew everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Lexa wasn't sure why Clarke was currently in the throne room instead of racing out to meet here like she normally did, no matter the hour, but Lexa wasn't going to question it, and simply quickened her step towards the conclaves chambers. Six days without Clarke was pure physical torture and just the thought of what they would get up to soon had her heart beating like a war drum before a charge.

When she found Clarke sitting in her metal throne with war paint on, her hair done up in intricate braids and wearing her favourite 'commander' coat - and judging by the long toned leg peaking out, little else - she nearly expired on the spot. Clarke's eyes lit up at the sight of her, just like Meesha's always did during her visits to the mountain. Lexa couldn't express in words how happy it made her to know there were so many people who loved her for _her_ , and not the commander.

She must have come to a halt because Clarke smirked down at her from the dais and in Trigedasleng said, "Welcome back, commander. Have a good trip?"

Her mind was so muddled all she could think to say was, "It's _your_ birthday. Not mine. Right?"

Clarke laughed, the musical sound tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yes, Lexa, it's mine." Clarke uncrossed her legs. "Now get your cute butt over here."

Not needing further prompting, she practically flew the rest of the way and into Clarke's waiting arms and mouth.

* * *

Positions flipped now, Lexa held Clarke close, using the coat as a means of additional warmth, as well as some modesty lest an errant conclave member find their way here in the middle of the night. They were deliciously satisfied and severely drained, like they always were after these rendezvous, and even though Lexa had the whole day ahead of her to say what she wanted to say, she had an urge to do it right then, so she did.

"Clarke, there's something I wish to discuss with you."

"Can't it wait?" Clarke muttered sleepily, burrowing further into Lexa's collarbone.

"Well...yes," she replied dumbly.

Disappointed, Lexa sighed internally, resigning herself to wait until the morning's light.

Clarke pressed a soft kiss to her skin. "I hate waiting on my birthday," she mumbled. "Go on."

Now that the moment was at hand, she faltered, and then collected herself. There was no reason to be nervous. There never had been.

"We've been through a lot together this past year. The uprising against your people. The preservation of the afflicted. The near collapse of the coalition. Enough to make anyone waver. And yet, you have stood by me throughout it all..."

Clarke squeezed her. "My pleasure."

"I never thought I would find someone like you. You are a paradox. Both light and dark. Flexible and stubborn. Kind and beautiful."

"Those last two aren't really paradoxical," Clarke chuckled during a pause. "But appreciated all the same. Go on. Keep singing my praises."

In another time, she might have taken this quite literally and made a fool of herself. Though perhaps not...Clarke seemed to really love it when she sang old songs to her in her native tongue. Lexa wasn't quite sure why. Clarke definitely had the better voice between them.

"Clarke, I..." _just realized your heart is pounding even faster than mine._ "You know, don't you?"

Clarke stiffened against her and then pulled back enough to give her a sheepish grin, the ends of her frazzled braids tickling Lexa's chest. "I _may_ have overheard your conversation with my dad during my healing lessons with Desmond."

Lexa frowned and tried to be angry with her for eavesdropping, especially when she was supposed to be learning, but knew it wasn't really her fault. It was almost impossible to keep secrets from one another any more. She didn't know why she even bothered to try.

Rather than looked abashed any longer, Clarke grinned, wide awake. A strong surge of excitement and pure affection washed over her. "So are you going to ask me, or do I have to ask you," she nipped Lexa's nose, "commander hot stuff?"

She rolled her eyes, and readying herself once more, attempted to say what she'd been wanting to say for quite some time, but had waited because she wanted to make this birthday a _much_ better memory than the last. "Clarke-"

The chamber doors barged open as two struggling forms practically fell through. If not for Clarke's reassuring weight, Lexa would have stood up and grabbed her sword, ready to break the fight apart. Violence was not permitted on the conclave's sacred ground.

However, it only took a few more seconds, and a few more grunts and groans for Lexa to realize these were lovers, not fighters. When the dim silhouettes got closer, she recognized them, and bristled.

"You've got to be kidding me," groaned Clarke, bumping her head into Lexa's shoulder.

The chamber carried her voice, causing the two figures to immediately freeze in a state of disarray.

The taller one squinted in their direction. "Lexa?" Anya said completely unaffected, as if this was a perfectly normal, everyday occurrence they now found themselves in. "I didn't know you would be here."

"Clearly," she replied sarcastically, a bit more bark than she had intended. Everything had nearly been perfect.

Raven moved closer, prompting Clarke to say, "What are you doing?! Stay back!"

"You busy, Clarke?" smirked Clarke's disruptive friend.

"Go away!"

"Or what?"

The indignation and rage was steadily climbing. "Or I'll kick your ass!"

"In the buff?" The smirk grew. "I don't think so."

"Wanna bet?!"

Even though she too wanted to kick someone's ass, Lexa prepared to hold Clarke in place. No one but her was allowed to see Clarke naked, ill lighted as it was in here.

Finally Raven glanced at her, deciding pissing off the commander anymore was probably a bad idea, and shrugged. "Calm your perky tits, Griffin. We're going." Raven winked at Lexa, and Clarke as a result. "As you were, birthday girl."

Raven grabbed Anya's hand and they disappeared through the smaller side door that led to private guest quarters.

Eventually Clarke calmed her tits and said, "You were saying?"

Lexa opened her mouth only to have the words dry up as various moans and other sounds she didn't want to hear filtered in through the not completely closed door.

"Oh my God!" whined Clarke in her ear. "Get the hell out of here!" she yelled in their direction. "This is no place for stuff like _that_!" This did not accomplish what Clarke intended. If anything, the noises only got louder.

Lexa didn't bother pointing out the hypocritical nature of this last statement, but apparently gave her a pointed look anyway because Clarke glared at her and said, "Shut up." She whipped her head back towards the partially opened door, whacking multiple braids right across her face and eyes. "I'm going to-"

Lexa lightly squeezed Clarke's hips. "Never mind them, Clarke." She stared deep into the eyes of the woman she loved with her whole being. The look was reminiscent of their first eye contact all those months ago while Clarke was still on the Ark; intense and seeming to cause time to stand still; life changing. In a physical manifestation of everything she was experiencing, she beamed at her soon to be wife, at the idea of the sky people uniting with her own, at the prospect of permanent peace. "Let us go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that's a wrap. I'm sure some of you wanted this to go on longer but I thought this was a fitting place to end it.
> 
> That being said, there were a few other things I didn't quite get around to, like the unpredictable process of their sensate periods syncing up...I imagine when they both had it, they were Godzilla and Mothra.
> 
> I was going to give Lexa a cold after being injured and sitting in the rain for an hour, but decided against it.
> 
> Also, Lexa was supposed to kind of get a bit of 'revenge' against Clarke for making her look stupid in front of her warriors after saving Anya.
> 
> Basically, all the things that would've been funny. Hopefully this ending made up for that a bit.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading this thing the whole way through. It definitely ended up being way longer than I was expecting. So kudos to you for your stamina.
> 
> Until next time, Clexates. :)


End file.
